


Demon

by CreamLatte



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2017-12-12 06:36:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 44,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreamLatte/pseuds/CreamLatte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian's childhood consisted of several brutal murders and his small hands covered in blood. Sent off to be trained as an assassin, the boy is plagued with premonitions of a boy yet to be born. Years later, when Ciel's parents are killed by the Master of the New World for resisting the change from the Old Religion, the child suffers greatly. And once the two cross paths, they're determination to keep their relationship strictly professional may be harder than expected.</p><p>But indeed, Sebastian's desire for the boy is low some; he is introduced to emotions never felt before. Not that that is any excuse for his attraction to a child. But, we're talking about a killer, aren't we? And can we blame a desperate child craving affection for his mistakes?</p><p>(NB: The story focuses largely on Sebastian for 10 or so chapters before Ciel arrives in all his glory)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story spends many chapters revolving around Sebastian's decline into a compulsive, obsessive behaviour - there are supernatural elements where Ciel does play a large part. Ciel does appear in person, I do promise that, and Sebastian's obsession for him plays a large part in the last 15 chapters of the story. I do want to point out, however, the story does not revolve soley around their sexual relationship. Let's paint a toned down Lolita and call it what I'm aiming for. I wan't to show a brief psychoanalysis of Sebastian as a person, and Ciel as a person, and the compulsive-obsessive behaviour that emerges from them meeting. I want you to watch them deny themselves and each other, to be confused by any emotion they ever feel. I want you to watch them soften, and love, and hate themselves for it. And in the end, I want to make you cry, but out of sadness or happiness is entirely up to you. All I ask of you is to stick with the story and immerse yourself into Sebastian's life. Enjoy~

* * *

**Demon**

It's a world where things are evil and things are good, and where there's hardly an in between, that a child is born, to perhaps the least caring of people. It's a world where night time creatures roam when they should not, and where nightmares don't cease when the sun decides to shine. Dear reader, this world is one made for dark creatures.

It's a world where people die.

He knows this quite well. He knows he is not quite right. Perhaps it had begun when he was curled in his mother's deep womb. He was safe there, locked within her, where no screaming wind that ate away a child's health could harm him. If she could have done anything about it, however, it would have been done, and the child would have suffered greatly with cold for nine months. She wasn't, in the least, the kind of mother you would have begged for. She wasn't, in the least, the kind of person who would have tolerated your begging. With the blood of a killer coursing through his forming body, there was perhaps no wonder he became who he did. _Though, no doubt, surely one cannot be condemned from birth when it is thy mother who hath sinned?_

May I say, dear reader, his mother _had_ sinned; rather ferociously. Most had understood how impossible it would be to tame such a lady; though our protagonist's father was not, in the least, the brightest of people. Before marriage, the crimson red had already dripped down her hand, bitterly scratching at the back of her mind, pleading her to kill again. She had discovered shortly after this horrid business of marriage that she bore his child- he was killed before nightfall- and it was unfortunate to her that the child could not be harmed without impairment occurring on her part. Many had questioned why she had let the child live, for it was certain that the thing would have a soul. Or perhaps she knew all along what a foul little creature he would be.

Dear reader, once such a thought entered her mind, this excited our killer so greatly. For nights on end, when she had completed all tasks, her claw-like nails would caress her belly, dreaming of nightmarish things. Even when they caught her and threw her behind bars, she lay, still knowing all that her child would become. Closing her eyes and seeing nothing but red, his mother would listen to anguished howls – victims yet to come – screaming and tearing at the foot of her smiling offspring. She could already taste the horror he was yet to create. Blood, oh, _beautiful_ , warm and always red. Even now, if they had returned to her the tainted knife she had used, she wouldn't destroy him. _When there is no blood left to drain_ , she would sing in the midnight darkness, _nothing will remain._

He was her lifeline for nine months. It became so blatantly clear that once he was out of her, she would no longer be. She dreamed of how she would die. So when the child killed the mother, he was obviously too young to have committed such a crime purposefully, it was no wonder they began to watch him.

When they took him into the priesthood, he was a mere infant. They thought that if he was taught the ways of good from when he could remember, he was surely to become a servant of the Master.

And for the first five years, he was considered to be an angel. He was named 'Sebastian'- though it's true meaning had been lost, Father Kelvin, who had taken a great interest in the boy, believed it had been mentioned in some primitive form of Master's Creed and whilst it was lost in translation, it had apparently meant 'pure angel of the Master'- when he turned one. From the moment he was four, he was asked to read out Bible passages to the other children. Sebastian always frowned when he was made to do so, clenching the book with something of disgust, his eyes growing very large and mouth growing extremely small as he stood, blushing brightly, in firing range of the other pupils. Father Kelvin laughed at how shaken he would get; he later joked that he could tell when the child's stomach opened up and a flood of butterflies swarmed his insides.

Sebastian was a creature of beauty. His carved marble features were striking against raven hair woven from the night sky. When one caressed them, one's fingers would feel ever soft for hours and the boy's eyes would close, his body limp as he rested against your body. And then, gleaming, eyes would unveil. Twin mahogany eyes would stare up at your face, whispering a thousand words. His lips were a touch pink, and so delicate, always parted, creating an image of innocence. His feet were small, and hands were smaller and his voice, oh, such a sweet thing. When those lips parted, one had to strain to hear; it often floated upwards, his voice climbing clouds to reach one's ears. Sebastian always sounded tired and his calming aura had its effect on people.

Which is why when he slipped the knife in his pocket and then under his pillow, not one person considered it to be him. It was only when curdling screams resounded throughout hallowed halls, only when Sebastian was missing, that Father Kelvin was sent in to the dining hall.

He found Sebastian playing in pool of red. The bodies were mangled, arms slightly twisted, frozen in horror. "Fun, fun." Sebastian whispered, fingers drawing things upon once white walls.

Father Kelvin shakily breathed in, hand reaching out. "Will you come with me, please, Sebastian?"

The young child frowned in a moment of realisation. Looking around the blood stained walls he understood why his mother had been caught. Like him, she was much too proud of her work. There had been little planning, only that shimmering knife. It had called to him, sleekly whispering, its voice taunting, making him desperate. Perhaps if he had told it to shut up, he would have had more time to paint his bloody pictures on the walls.

"I understand." Sebastian spoke. The priest nodded. "I'm glad, my son, that you're ready for redemption." "You mean", his head snapped up, eyes bright, "I can have another go?" The image scared Father Kelvin. Indeed, the child's true meaning was not at all understood by the Father. The priest knew not of this; neither did Sebastian. Father Kelvin merely thought that child had been overcome by darkness only his mother knew; and it was gone, now, and the child understood he had been subject to evil. He drew his hand away momentarily, considering this. He watched as the child patiently waited, and wondered where they had gone wrong. Yet to try again…no, no, abandoning such a pathetic being was too great a sin.

"Yes child. You can have another go."

"Good." Sebastian nodded to himself. "Whom shall I kill?"

The Father's eyes widened. Sebastian had not thought what he'd done was wrong? One would naturally assume Sebastian to be innocent, pure. Whilst Father Kelvin had devoted his life to endeavors such as Sebastian, the boy was a rather special case. It was as if he had understood that his craft would be to wield the hand of death from birth. And then, as if the winds of the Master sent him a thousand angels to his aid, the priest had an idea. An agonising cough pervaded the priest's thoughts and he found himself loving the child like he shouldn't; like a son. The cage of warm arms and concerned whispers and the young murderer was nodding, returning worried gazes with smiles sickly sweet and loving embraces with airy kisses that still was so _pure_.

Sebastian recovered, apologising several times and Father Kelvin straightened, sending down fatherly looks. These resonated around the statues of saints and grotesques that sat above them around the hall. Both were unsure, suddenly, which of the two figures was evil, and which good. Certainly it would be the killer child whom was the offspring of a demon; though all statues agreed that he had sounded pure, did seem sweet, looked to be an angel as he'd once been described. And the priest's thoughts weren't all good; certainly not what he had in store for the boy he had raised, the child he loved as his son. Considering this, the gargoyles chattered mysteriously above the figures as Father Kelvin reached for the boy's bloodied hand. _The child, it's the child!_ One screamed from the eaves. _No, no! Cannot you tell it is the priest whom is impure?_ Another retorted. _Up here, Father, up here!_ An angel cried. _Beware him, please, beware him!_ A demon hissed and the others fell quiet. _Did you not hear where he is to send the boy?_ The angels cried out and the demons laughed in joy. _Where he is taking him is certainly an evil place._ The ones that could stared out of the long window, up at the mountain hill. One remembered years before when those long black robes had defaced such holy ground. So sleek and skilful, silent and sly; the statue remembered when they had come to take away another child, with lesser skills than Sebastian, no doubt, though Sebastian would make such a perfect- A hiss, a pause. _But the boy is impulsive!_ They each agreed. _He'll have to learn to be a-_ And the word was cried out from both parties; what the boy was to become, what he would suffer, whom he was live as, who he would die as. _Assassin!_ But it was a silent battle, and the figures continued about themselves.

"Sorry, it's the blood." Sebastian murmured. "I think I made too much of it."

_When there is no blood left to drain…_

Father Kelvin considered the being before him. "Come with me, please, Sebastian."

_Nothing will remain…_

And the child beamed up at him. "Certainly. It's much too dirty in here." Then everything dispersed, and the child clutched Father Kelvin's hand as he was led from the scene. In his heart, the Father knew what was right and what was wrong; and still years from this moment he would still be haunted by nightmarish figures of the child. And, in a moment betraying every sense of emotion in the Father, Kelvin smiled at the child and said, "Yes."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

Sebastian remembers drawing, of his small hands grasping at brushes and tightly formed bristles painting crimson red. He remembers being kept in a dank lifeless room, with darkness overwhelming, and Sebastian would cower toward the one burning candle on oak desk, drawing things of sunshine and life.

Or at least, that was what the priests hoped. Since the incident in the hall had occurred, there had been an obvious reluctance to approach the child. Indeed, it was only Kelvin who would open the door enough for Sebastian to run into the Father's arms, before sitting and talking to the child about a great many number of things - none of which revolved around death.

When a subject would seem like falling into Sebastian's blood-lust, Kelvin would quickly smile, nod once, and begin a new train of thought. It soon became apparent that everything that Kelvin spoke of to the child, no matter how pure the subject, would find a way of becoming of interest to the boy; the bloodier the better. At one point in time, Kelvin had asked to child to craft his imagination into a story- perhaps to see how far the depths of his mind had corrupted.

When Sebastian gladly obeyed, and spoke, Kelvin gladly left, and never asked such a thing again. After Kelvin acknowledged the child's innocence of his actions, yet unnatural and abnormal ability to kill, he informed the only people who could ever tame him, though tame would be near impossible. And Sebastian was moved from his dormitory with the other boys to seclusion.

And he was happy.

Certainly, the child was not drawing things of sunshine and life, but he made good use of the colour red. Sebastian remembers drawing things of blood, of inventing stories, and victims, and screaming children and mangled limbs. He would smile, here, subtly and slowly, his mind working furiously to make the death longer, the killing more brutal, the image more life-like. When he showed his work to Kelvin he saw the Father visibly pale, and cough; the darkness in the child giggled, the light in the child cried. Sardonically, he would show several images, several times, and tell Kelvin of such stories, smiling. Indeed, the child was not all bad, but indeed he was not all good. And he remembers the creature of supple ebony fur and shining dark eyes, and how it purred and spoke to him, loved him. He knew, as he should, that that creature was the thing that loved him most.

Sebastian remembered, and he remembers well.

This solitude would have undoubtedly sent any other into a spiralling downfall. It was customary, though, for those who had the same dark hobby to be parted from the life they once knew, as preparation for what was to come. Sebastian did not mind it, not at all; in fact he found that being locked in the dampness and gloom only made his fetish grow and his creativity was soon blooming.

Grell Sutcliffe, however, did not understand why Sebastian was locked in this room, with only a feline for company. It was perhaps his obsession with red that had first started his fascination with Sebastian; not that he knew the boy's secrets, of course, none of the children had such knowledge. Grell had found Sebastian utterly compelling; his every movement, action, word and there he was, watching, waiting, desiring something of the child, though he was unsure of what. When this unhealthy obsession had begun was, perhaps, when Sebastian first smiled at the boy's flame-red hair.

"I love that colour." Grell whisked around, stared once, and grinned sheepishly. Then the dark boy's face clouded and he frowned, looking down at himself.

"But I prefer the colour black."

Grell had tried to retort, but the child had turned, lost interest, and his mouth would not form the correct shapes. Grell had stood there for a time, until a reverend had ushered him along, and he spent many minutes pondering things. He noticed the boy's treatment, heard fathers and brothers and priests whispering in corridors, and children conversing and whimpering whenever he passed them. It was as though he was the Master, Grell thought, revered, feared; a legend.

He could not help it.

So when he found that Sebastian had been moved from his quarters, far away, to the back of the Brotherhood, in a mingy, dank room, with no windows and one bed, he naturally found this to be absurd, and went about criticising all who passed him. The first small boy who passed him stopped. Taking in the crimson flame that was Grell's hair, he audibly squeaked – Grell audibly growled – and was sent scampering down the corridor and out of sight. The young priest who passed next avoided, gracefully, a series of comments and questions about the treatment of Grell's friends.

Sebastian put down his brush. He frowned. Grabbing at the crucifix which hung around his neck- he had been colouring it black- he stared at it, scowling.

"Friend?"

He did not know the meaning of the word.

Sebastian's head spun when heard the lock click and the door swung open, bringing uninvited guests.

Father Kelvin scurried in, nervously beckoning the child toward him. "It's time, child."

Immediately Sebastian abandoned his creations, eyes widening at the creatures before him, smile forming, allure that of a murderer. The sleek cat hissed- it was sent one glance- and darted back into comforting shadows, the soothing dark. Sebastian bent his head toward the cat, placing one finger over child lips, and the cat responded with soft mew and retreated under the bed.

Cloaked figures stood, neither disapproving nor encouraging the action. Sebastian noted the limp red-head the taller of the two grasped in his hand. He saw Grell swallow, and Sebastian's brows furrowed, for he was certain all members of the brethren would be glad to see him go.

And Sebastian knew not of where he was headed, though he was certain, from the darkness that enamoured the figures, that he would see blood again. And again. The devil licked his lips. Grell was brought to eye-level.

"Yours?"

Kelvin nodded. The priest was sent a disapproving glare and bent his head.

"Yours?" It was repeated. Sebastian's quick eyes hissed upwards, to the figure, to the "friend", to Kelvin and back again.

He shook his head once. The other cloak giggled mockingly. Sebastian's eyes darkened, and he gave the figure a heated glare.

"What is he to you?"

The word "friend" ran past him once, twice, thrice. He considered this, staring, Grell's wide eyes shaking with fear, entire being visibly scared. And shadowy curtains fell, and cloaked figures grinned, and Kelvin closed his eyes, and Grell screamed as he was thrown to the ground, shaking as he crawled to the corner, squeezing eyes shut tightly, and Sebastian, well, Sebastian coyly smiled.

"Nothing."

* * *

 

**Hi, CreamLatte here! Thank you for sticking with this story, I realise a lot of the characters are terribly OOC- but I do promise more gore in the following chapters. This chapter isn't as good as the first one, but I wanted to spend some time developing Sebastian's personality and his relationship with his peers. I do think a young Sebastian would have been this antisocial- but who better to introduce than Mr. Grell Sutcliffe? He'll be back in later chapters to twirl, skip and frolic into Seb's new life... I hope you enjoy this! ~Alyss~**


	3. Chapter 3

** Chapter 3 **

Sebastian faintly remembers his mother. He remembers her bargaining with the guards to keep her with him, for a week, a month, a year. Any guard who had ever tried to remove the child from the cell had died; and so they watched, and waited, and made sure she cared for him with something of human touch. And when she would beg, they grimaced and snorted at this snivelling being, dangling the keys in front of her eyes. A light chuckle would follow, and his mother's hand would go limp, for a second, and then dart out. Whenever she managed to grab them, those idiotic men would be bloody shadows in seconds. And she would run. As a baby, he could do nothing, and waited patiently, limbs flailing in the air as the smell of blood wafted over to him. Sebastian would curdle and cry. He did not despise her for constantly leaving him- she knew all too well they would remove him from his confines, perhaps slot in him to the next definition of normalcy, and maybe he'd grow up to be one of those troubled teens, who takes a knife and becomes a bringer of pain and death and fear.

She smiled at that thought.

But his mother always came back, had somehow lost her touch, and now not everything she laid a hand on perished at her command. And this time, when she was dragged back, Sebastian was gone; her eyes flickered to outside those iron bars, and she hissed and spat at the repulsive sight- her hideous son being cradled by the 'good man', his smile sickly sweet and she screamed a piercing scream and could not be approached for days.

Anyone who went near could breath in the raw scent of hatred.

And this wasn't love. She was incapable of feeling love. Sebastian knew, tiny eyes so wide and wonderful, watching the beast stalk back and forth, and he knew she didn't love him.

But he knew this wasn't hate.

Tiny body carried from that haunting place, his pure eyes danced up to the woman. A face carved of death and bone, he thinks now, and he gurgled and smiled at the incapability of the woman.

Sebastian didn't really have anyone. Intelligence burned through that little mind, and quivered slightly. It was less than year before it happened. He learned to walk, and learned a few words, and the people who cared for him smiled. Sebastian realised in that moment just how much like his mother he was. And so he asked to see her.

This wasn't, perhaps, in the way of words- Sebastian knew early on he would not be the best at getting what he wanted through use of the English language. He would wail at night, and call out, "Mama!" And he would slap away the woman who came to his side, and even as she cried for him to stop, please, Sebastian, stop, his tiny hands would constantly reject, angelic eyes were stormy with frustration, and he would call for the woman on death row.

At one time the woman's companion tried to cover his mouth, playfully, of course, to get him to smile, but Sebastian gnawed and bit until his hand bleed- Sebastian tongue caught hold of this, and he lapped for a second at the tiny wound, and this made him feistier, more deliciously insane. The man did not scream, but looked at the child, and there it was; a glint. Sebastian stopped then, eyes swimming with something of gorgeousness, and innocence, and then they were cradling fragile body to clavicle and a whispered debate went on over his small head. The child lapsed into some uncontrolled sleep, powered by the utter drain of energy. His fragile head full of mystery fell against her shoulder. The woman smiled wistfully, and apologised to the limp body. Gently, she tucked him in tightly, with love, and something in Sebastian's being shivered in disgust.

Oh, yes. So much like his mother.

It was her last week alive. He was brought to her at daylight- the man and woman were asked to wait outside- and stood, lips pursed in front of her. One guard started intently at him, at his furrowed brow and full lips and tiny hands clasped shut. His eyes moved to the frail figure in the cell. She sat with knees to her chin, back turned to the boy and her nails were cutting, and fingers were moving over bloodshot skin, playing with the paint her body provided her with.

"Hello." Sebastian whispered. The serpent whipped around, eyes the very picture of insanity. Sebastian felt his insides bubble with playfulness and dread. A dirty smile sleuthed its way across his face and he giggled, somewhat, at his mother's realisation. The staleness of the air suffocated him. There was a certain lack of life in this corridor, he thought to himself, a distasteful death, though, no fun death's here…

And then she was flinging herself against those bars, hands so definitely outstretched, again, again -shaking now, and the sound, oh- she was thrusting her entire body against those bars, eyes fixed, mouth snarling and then there was blood trickling down her arms, and she fell back, panting, for only a second, before she jumped at those confines again.

"Tsk, tsk." Sebastian whispered. He moved closer, despite the guard's warning. He shot a defiant glare, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

It wasn't the howling cries of the boy's mother that sent that man running. Sebastian was a lot smarter than he let on. "What's the point of it all, mother?" Something in her eyes registered- she flung her hands over her eyes, for her son was less than two, and yet his words were so formed, so…."You used to be so beautiful…"

His hand drifted slowly through the bars to her hair, which he stroked, and she whimpered. "So beautiful…even when you left me in this cell, you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever had the misfortune to lay my eyes on…" He giggled.

"Beauty, mother", he leaned forward, to her ear, "is terror."

She lashed out at him, nail scratching perfect chin. "Tch." He wiped the blood away. "And now look at you, nothing but an animal…"

She stopped, and started at him, fuming. "There's no fun in killing when you're an animal. You don't feel the same things, the strictly human emotions." He looked to the ceiling.

"There's no fire, no burning passion." His eyes darted to hers. "You'll never be able to smell death the same way again." He giggled mockingly. "Of course, I never said there wasn't anything fun about killing animals." He walked slowly to the left. "Especially when their trapped like this. Some say they like the chase, but really, all it comes down to is the kill."

There was a piercing howl that sent shivers coursing down, and his hand was back at his side in an instant, and she was screaming, and groaning, and looking at him, she died looking at him, and then there was no sound at all. The doors were flung open, and there was the image of horror, and Sebastian smiled to himself something dreadful.

"And I just killed you."


	4. Chapter 4

****Chapter 4**   **

"So pretty”, said Sebastian, cloaked hand gently caressing the being’s head. “So dark, so beautiful…”

 _Beauty is terror_ …The memory flashed for a moment in his eyes, and then was gone. The horse snuffed and stamped, shaking long, sinister mane from its eyes. The child and the horse looked at each other, and each knew their place. Master and puppet, boy and animal, predator and prey. But Sebastian liked the horse, liked with such frenzy, and his small white hand would pat and stroke until the horse’s eyes softened and there was a certain liking between the two.

The figures watched, intrigued, and noted his connections with beings of non-human nature. There was the image of fleeting sleekness of a cat, darting under and away at Sebastian’s command. Yes, one thought, suddenly aware of a quality that one must learn in order to be a silent killer, and he noted that Sebastian already possessed it.

Whether realised or not, the soul is strictly human. We speak of things holding souls, containing emotions, and feelings, when really they feel a neutral affection that comes about in their own self. And perhaps it is strictly human to think that others around you feel as you do, feel the pain, and longing and flashes of uncertain happiness that lingers in one’s life. The figure standing behind Sebastian watched the young boy as he spoke and smiled at the several horses waiting to pull the child in the carriage, and he noted the connection between the two.

In order to kill successfully, one needs to lose one’s soul. To become purely animalistic, to lose oneself until all desires have perished and there are only two left- to live and to kill- , when all regrets and guilt have gone; that is when one is perfect for killing. When a child identifies he is separate from the world, it is usual that a portion of their soul is lost; the feeling of belonging. No matter how much one is loved, no one can truly understand your being as much as one understands oneself.

The figure realised then that Sebastian was not, strictly speaking, human. His soul was one of empathy, and caring- when it came to those with the same animalistic nature as his own. To kill one’s own is often a sickening thought, and when in action it becomes near impossible, especially for a child whose life depends on the caring and kindness of those around him. And yet, if one does not see a fellow being as ‘human’, or in this case, ‘animal’, it can be a simple operation when eliminating them.

Unbeknownst to the figure, Sebastian had an extremely thin line between ‘human’ and animal’. If a human displayed human qualities, Sebastian would find himself in a matter of dislike. However, if one exhibited beast-like characteristics, Sebastian would find himself rather confused. Whilst he found himself able to connect with the simplicity of an animal, he found that when a human turned as wild as his mother, they became not at all beautiful, but indeed daunting, bloodcurdling. Sebastian found killing things are frightfully gorgeous as the next killer. But if said killer was referred to as an animal, a beast, a disgusting, pitiful creature, Sebastian would find himself so supremely repulsed…

Which is why his mother was dead.

The figure behind him started forward, and spoke to the child who responded somewhat happily to the notion of being invited inside the carriage, though secretly he’d given the horse a somewhat violent glance signifying his distaste for the robed figures, and the horse snuffed in agreement, and the two parted rather gladly; the horse waiting to pull the boy, the boy waiting to be pulled.

Sebastian smiled grimly at the inside of the carriage. It was plastered with delusions of grandeur and smelled of velvet that had been cleaned in a hurry. Sebastian noted the blackish brown stain on one of the seats, near the window, and his brow furrowed slightly. His head snapped to his shoulder and he glimpsed the figure’s eyes for a second; he thought better than to ask of it and sat with his back against the stain, and wondered what interesting things could have possibly occurred in order for that stain to get there.

The further shuffling of clothes and bodies, and bodies and clothes, and the carriage lurched forward at a gentle speed, a lullaby, and as Sebastian’s body was lulled back and forth, he parted the curtains to see a scarlet sky. The blood flooded into the blue from a place he couldn’t see, and it was fading slowly into a pool of black. Sebastian smiled as he watched the sky and wondered a great many number of things.

_This child was all the intrigue and curiosity that could last one a lifetime, thought the figure who had met the boy’s eyes earlier, He is both the sin of humanity and a symbol for purity, and innocent ignorance…_

And Sebastian knew he was being analysed, that his every movement, every breath would be scoured and searched for a clue to way his mind worked. But Sebastian knew, as they should from his subtly movements and incomprehensible understanding of the way death worked that the key to his mind would not be found. They should know that undertaking the search for it should not be taken lightly.

And they would never break him.

****

Walking through those hallowed halls and vision became dream-like, and sound was swept up in the feeling of ample need, and Sebastian found himself desiring death more fully, and he could smell the foulness of the place from the carriage; it made him shiver with delight.

He loved it, the colour of it, and the smell of it. As soon as he stepped through those doors, he knew he wanted to be a part of it. The vast number of weapons, of different sizes, and shapes, and uses; that had seen different deaths, at different times… But it was when he saw the simplicity and organisation of the place that he found himself suddenly puzzled. He thought back to the disarrangement and entanglement of childhood, and then here, and realised, sharply and suddenly, that death was neither of these, and neither was killing. Sebastian found himself more drawn to this place, for perhaps this place could tell him _just what death was_.

Recalling the blood he had played in so many times, Sebastian stopped when he was led to his room. It was quiet and secluded, and Sebastian smiled sweetly at the figure and closed the door behind him. And then all foulness clouded his face and he found himself chuckling. This tangle of thorns was becoming more thrilling, more chilling, more intriguing by the second. And as he looked around the room, Sebastian slipped the glinting knife from his pocket into a gap in the stone wall, took off his painted crucifix and placed it to one side, and then sat on the bed, letting out a soft sigh.

For now, it was all it was supposed to be.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The young Sebastian is met by his tutor, a professor of sorts, within the Assassin's organisation which Sebastian has been absorbed into.

**Chapter 5**

The window was open. A damp wind rustled playfully around the trees. Beyond this, misty clouds sailed over the moon. Sebastian sat in an inarticulate mixture of contemplation and hollowness.

He often thought about her, you know, about the look on her face after he'd punctured her throat. Her face curled in desperation and determination, gasping, limbs failing. He hated that; the animalistic tang to her.

Sebastian remembered her eyes, expressionless, nothingness, and he wondered if that was what he was to become.

He sat like that for a very long time without moving. Then he lay back down and went to sleep.

* * *

It was a nightmarish hour. There was an obstinate little voice at the back of his head that tormented the child. The man at the front of the room was speaking to them, the largest class in several generations (there were seven of them, Sebastian included, and whilst the other children- there were but two girls- preferred to stick fairly close to each other, Sebastian sat at the back and to the right, slumped against a single hand, eyes wandering out of the grand glass-paned window).

The teacher in question was a middle-aged man that Sebastian had disliked immediately. Cheerily, he had greeted the class and ushered them in, introducing himself and then asking their own names. Sebastian's senses tingled.

The man was stumpy and going bald; nose too long for his face, mouth too wide. It was easy to find faults in this man. Indeed, Sebastian was sure the man was fake in every way. With looks like that, he would have undoubtedly experienced the height of patronising undertones, the salt of the human scourge. Kindness was unlikely to be a product of said treatment. The boy quickly retreated to the back of the room, yet the man knew quite well who he was, what he was.

Unaware of an inspecting gaze, the others chattered secretly below him. They were spread along two rows of seas and seemed rather good chums.

 _My God,_ Sebastian scoffed, shaking his head solemnly,  _my God, could they possibly have worked together previously? Executed a murder together?_  He brought a hand to his mouth and rose an eyebrow.

What a disappointment, really, he'd been so looking forward to stealing their ideas, or plans, for future reference. Yet if said plans had been copulated by a  _group_ , there was bound to be a complicated strategy, one with far too many holes.

He chuckled as they frantically diverted their attention between themselves and the teacher, whispering secretly amongst them. One peered back cautiously, caught his gaze, and spun instantly back around. It was hard for Sebastian to differ between them other than their physical looks; and this unsettled him, obviously, as he was so used to having all of his senses in order to determine the state of a situation.

Suddenly, his attention was drawn wildly to the dark female. There was something quite odd about  _her_ , an obvious conflict in her own personality, and also her relationships to the surrounding group. It seemed ironic, and almost humorous, so that Sebastian started at her with something of familiarity. He identified an endearing domination about her- the way she frowned, slapping the table (not too hard, or too loud that it would draw unwanted attention) to regain the spotlight and scolding them whenever they averted their gaze back at hand. There it was again, that  _tang_. It was somewhat ominous now that Sebastian swallowed when he looked at her-loose curls bobbing, mouth snarling beautifully; she was a creature of terror and artistic splendour- seeing the conflict was, in fact, between letting go forever, and holding on somewhat tighter.

 _He hated her._ But was it really the girl he hated? Sebastian realised he merely despised the unsettling dark cloud of insanity, of losing yourself, that rested in the shadows of the girl's life. Undoubtedly such a cloud would present itself to every killer, though possibly not this early in a murderess' career…?

What was more, she seemed rather close to one other member; in fact, they were the only two sitting directly next to each other.

What were they, good friends? Leaders, directors? …Could they have affection for one another?

"Oh my", Sebastian mumbled, "Oh, dear  _God_."

Could it be? If so, Sebastian would have great fun destroying that little time bomb only slightly ahead of schedule. Certainly, he was not a strong believer of young love at all. Sebastian had turned six late the previous night, and he knew from the looks of them that, whilst they varied in age, were not much older. What, really, was the point of it? Where could a relationship, at this age, with this much blood, possibly go?

 _Really_ , he though, shaking his head…but he noticed how those dark chocolate curls leaned towards the red head boy, and how the boy leaned away and oh! why, this was still fun.

The others in the group did not entice him so, and his did not pay them much mind. But they were all connected, somehow, and  _this_  intrigued him somewhat. Besides, all he could see were the back of their heads. With such a limited amount of information, how could he possibly be expected to understand the way they worked?

Sebastian drew his gaze from below him and slowly upward to the blackboard to find numerous drawings of what might have resembled victims and weapons only Sebastian had been certain this class was about connecting with the victim (indeed, these drawings might have resembled Russia for all he knew). Instantly, he had known this was to be idiotic. There was one, singular defiant relationship between himself a victim- and that was predator and prey.

There was an awkward cough and the child shot his eyes up to the being at the front of the room. He flashed an innocent smile as he quickly copied down the next class he had to attend. Sebastian stood, then, and as his reflection rose to meet him- seemingly bedraggled, eyes glazed and withdrawn, clothes slightly ruffled (indeed, he could smell the raw stench of self-disgust seeping out from his body)- he paused and swallowed.

He met his own eyes. For a moment he wasn't sure whether he was looking at himself or beyond into the outside world.

A moment of silence.

The chatter at the front of the room began to die down; instead, the clatter of chairs and organisation took over. Sebastian composed himself. Without another thought, he walked down those stairs, without looking back or goodbye, and left the room.

* * *

When he entered the new hall, which was poorly lit and had a certain theatrical notion to it, Sebastian's heart skipped a beat. He noticed the height of the ceilings, the small intricacies and linings of gold woven into patterns on the roof. The candles flickered playfully (and dangerously) near the wooden desks. Those desks nearest the door were precariously rotting and the floor creaked and groaned with the times as his teacher stepped around a table covered with papers.

Above him was the blackest of blackboards, reaching to the ceiling. It was scattered with white chalky flecks- Sebastian could feel the dust of the chalk floating around irritably- and boarded by two bookshelves shelving Classic literature; from Homer and Plato to classical fiction (which in themselves ranged from fairytales to crime) and finally to the largest volumes of meticulous recordings of death in the forms of murder, suicide and unsolved cases.

Sebastian smiled.

"Hello."

"Hello", the man replied without turning.

His voice was hauntingly familiar; deep and distracted, obviously wise. Sebastian shuffled his papers at the door, leaning against the door frame for support.

The class ref sheet, of which he had quickly scribbled down though not taken in, read, in his neat writing:

Psychology

(In brackets was a much longer explanation of the call and all it entailed, along the lines of, 'Understanding the complications of the human mind; how to overcome these in yourself, and your victim as well as a general overlook of the structure of current human society and how it has developed' –though there were other minor details here specifying exactly what was to be taught). No name for a teacher was listed.

Sebastian folded these away as he led his eyes to the main in front of him. He had little to no hair. His shirt collar was askew and suit covered with wrinkles. Indeed, he seemed quite disorganized, and in a world of precision, where one wrong move could land with  _you_  on the hit list rather than the victim, this was rather unusual.

And Sebastian was drawn to it.

"I'm Sebastian." He spoke softly.

"Why, hello Sebastian." By this time, Sebastian had moved to the side.

"It's lovely to meet you." The man's profile could be seen- eyes large and wildly passionate. A small smile played on his thin lips. "Take a seat, why don't you? The others should be arriving soon." Sebastian obediently complied and shuffled a little less than elegantly into the second row, quickly grabbing a pen and making sure paper was at hand.

"Ah…" He heard an airy, laid back voice at the door. A lithe boy wandered in. He chuckled, eyes locked on Sebastian, surveying.

"Don't grill the boy…" The teacher suggested absentmindedly.

The boy's hair was a bright carroty orange, tied back, smile genuine, yet genuinely false. He was obviously older than the others, by a few years.

"Have you decided to be more social this lesson, Sebastian?" Sebastian's face fell. The boy responded instantly with another light hearted laugh, head thrown back with glee. "Oh, don't worry, killer. We promise to be quieter this lesson." He drew a finger to his lips, " _This_  teacher here isn't such a bore."

"Now, now…" Spoke the man from the front of the room. "Be nice."

"How can I? He's a disgrace to the Institution. A ridiculously cheerful chap, who I am sure eliminates his targets by talking on and on…"

"I could certainly feel the effects…" Sebastian muttered.

Both parties chuckled somewhat, the orange haired boy using this chance to quietly slip in next to Sebastian. The man returned to the front of the room, still searching for his notes.

"Any idea where the others are?" He brought a duster to the board and cleared a small portion for today's lesson.

The boy shook his head, earrings tinkling softly against each other. "I can assure", he brought his voice to whisper as he turned to Sebastian, elbows resting on the table, hands clasped, "This lesson is quite enjoyable; it gets you thinking."

Sebastian glanced at the board and back again, to an outstretched hand.

"They call me Joker." Sebastian raised an eyebrow. Joker giggled. "No, really…I'm not sure I've ever had another name…" He scoffed. "Mothers…"

Sebastian smiled slyly. "They are a pain, aren't they?"

Joker smiled. "Oh, yes. I heard about that. You're quite special, aren't you, killer?" He tilted his head. "Quite sly. They couldn't risk pinpointing you, just a child…the weapon wasn't found-very cleverly hidden, using a sharpened pencil- indeed, the cause of death was undetermined for a time."

"Special, Joker? I'd say skillful!"

All heads turned to the figure at the door. He winked as he entered, taking a seat above Sebastian and Joker. Sebastian eyes had wandered down to something unusual about the boy- his artificial right leg. _How intriguing…_

"Ah, Dagger, what took you so long?"

Dagger's smile faded somewhat. "I've asked you not to call me that."

"I know."

The boy pouted, but his frown relieved slightly. "Beast was taking her time is all."

"And you couldn't hurry her along?"

Dagger's mouth fell open comically. "Whaaaat?" He whacked the top of Joker's head with his note pad. "Big Sis and I are connected by the red string of fate, Joker. I don't want to get her angry. All I want is…her happiness…" He grinned profoundly, eyes flickering to the door.

"Pervert." The girl whom Sebastian decided was Beast sauntered in, arms crossed. Sebastian's eyes raked down her in what might have seemed an inappropriate, or attracted, manner, but was in fact a visual inspection of character. Arms folded, frown, lips pursed- she seemed rather arrogant- and, strange enough, an artificial  _left_  leg. The moment she appeared, Joker scooted to the edge of the seats, and Sebastian followed. The girl, however, was not aware they had done so, instead focusing her attention on Dagger, who seemed somewhat captivated by her arrival.

"Hello, Beast." The teacher smiled as she walked in. "Hello, Snake." After a slight pause he added, "And to Wendy and Peter, also. Are we going to begin sometime soon, my children?" Surveying them all, he smiled sweetly. "Our new student is quite the charmer. This is Sebastian." There was a mumble of greetings from everyone.

Beast, after considering her options, decided not to bother with making Joker move over so she could sit next to him and moved, instead, to the other side of Sebastian, scowling, leaving a space between them (Sebastian was neither pleased nor displeased about this) whilst Snake, a thin, light haired boy who seemed not quiet but more silently content, sat close to Dagger leaving several seats between them. Dagger frowned somewhat at this, and focused his attention on the set of curls below, who stiffened and swung in time to catch his gaze. A set of nasty name calling followed as Wendy and Peter, who Sebastian noted seemed closer to each other than the others, slipped in next to Dagger, who used this opportunity to smile at them,; long enough so that Beast calmed down enough to apologise to the teacher and settle into her seat.

"Now then", He stepped away from the blackboard, revealing the chalky white name of Baron, "Shall we begin?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first lecture, the first disagreement.

**Chapter 6**

He was an eloquent talker; sublime, magical, engaging. Subtly addicting, Sebastian's glossed eyes were locked on him, as were the others. They all followed Joker and slid forward, head on hands, drawing in as much as they could of him.

Baron's voice threatened the softest of feathers, the smoothest, airy un-kissed lips of the corrupted innocence in that room. The man was regal in his movements, celestial in his being. He spoke in such a way Sebastian was uncertain of himself.

"What does it mean to be good?" His voice resounded throughout the room, casting them all a somewhat precocious glance. "Really, now, can all humans whom are considered 'good' be defined by a singular meaning?" He paused, clasping his hands and rushing back to the board. "Goodness, to seek goodness, is really", he fingered the chalk deftly, scribbling fervently, "understanding the human mind, and acting upon it." When none of them responded, mouths parted dreamingly as they let the wave of calming methodology wash over them, he continued. "When one asks a child that question, he would often answer with the only thing he knows, or thinks, to be perfect. Goodness and righteousness are often grouped together. 'Goodness is what my parents are'. Of course, in your case, that is a false statement, an awfully fallacious belief." He offered an unsettling grimace that crept along his jaw in such a way the children bit their lips. "But the human mind learns based on its environment. Depending on what you are surrounded by, your opinions tend to warp to suit them. If one learns that the parents are right, they therefore must be good, also. And so another definition for good is born."

He turned slightly away from them and scoffed. "Such a method of teaching undoubtedly causes undying arrogance and self-confidence in these youngsters. If the child believes  _they_  are right, and then what they are doing is good, well! Certainly, teaching  _that_  to a child is a terrible way to strengthen psyche." He turned back to the room, eyes soaring around the classroom. "In reality, goodness comes based on the teachings of parents and their parents before them. And goodness, which is strictly human, is a virtue. If virtues are taught, then, if emotions and values are a lesson, is it possible to undo these teachings? Is it possible to feel  _nothing_  at all, to completely unravel the human psyche so that you are lost forever wallowing in the emptiness that we fear? Is it possible to become so beautifully putrid, so terrifyingly lovely that we are something different all together?"

"Animalistic?" Sebastian offered.

Baron gave an amused leer and paused, watching the boy. "One thing that will be vital to your training will be your ability to feel no guilt, no shame, to be able to compose yourself after eliminating the weakest or strongest of all your targets. You need to do  _this_  and still maintain some sense of humanity. Of course", he smiled at Sebastian, "You may cut your victims down until they are just that." His tongue licked and rolled over the word like it was some delicious delight, before he spilled it to the awaiting audience in front of him, "Animals!" And they ate it up greedily, slicing smiles dancing swiftly over bone white faces and skating through the thick red blood blooming over their hands.

It was only Sebastian who echoed the word, letting it slip and slide, and crash and die as it hit the table below him.

And quietly he bit and snarled at the inner organs of the memory that taunted him, and falsely smiled with the others to hide his despair.

Because really, he thought, remembering the shimmering beauty of the horses that had brought him here, to home,  _she_  had dropped far lower than them. It was disgusting to see a slayer fall so low.

And even pure souls, he thought now, when they could not  _feel_ , could not scream and howl at the torture he could force upon them…no, oh no, he loved the scent of their fear, the evil stench of evisceration and the feel of it on his skin, the horror that he created –oh,  _God_ , such bliss.

That sight would not be at all beautiful if Sebastian had not enjoyed it. And so slowly, he began to disagree with Baron- only minor, discrete things, of course, for Sebastian had already fallen in what might have been called love, if Sebastian was something of that world, but was in fact a kind of gnawing hunger that was beginning to fester and swarm Sebastian's being.

Baron had paused, looking to the boy. Calmly, he walked around the desk to Sebastian. "You see, some of you will have no trouble disconnecting yourself in order to kill." He leaned dangerously close, taking Sebastian's ear near his chapped lips, and, after coating them in a glistening layer of saliva, whispered, "But it will be harder for you to blend in with the rest of them", he lowered his voice even further, smiling malevolently, " _killer_."

"Now", Baron clapped his hands together, flying swiftly away from the child, who was somewhat taken aback, "When we lack human qualities, what happens to us?"

"We lose it?" Dagger suggested, eyes glazed and swimming, as if he were on hallucinogens, that sent his mind spinning.

"Quite." Baron chuckled. "Yes, we revert to our most basic animalistic functions. There is a thin line between humans and animals", at this Sebastian audibly growled, "but there is one, a slight division, distinction, and that is emotions and values and the moral code of life."

Beast frowned, poignant eyes diluting. "You say 'most basic animalistic functions' as if that only involved sleeping, eating and shitting." Her frown became significantly noticeable, drowning the rest of her face. "But what about survival?"

Sebastian, genuinely interested, leaned forward.

"Well, what about it? Humans have a strange ability to see the world when they want to, and then see nothing at all. In a crisis we aid, and yet when those rich dullards pass beggars on the street, they exit the scene in air of superiority, and cannot spare them a penny." He lent back on his desk. "Humans really are ridiculous." He pondered his own thought for a moment and said, "Though there are occasionally stories, accounts of freaks of nature in which man has acted quite gallantly in order to maintain the survival of the world. For example, the great floods, where a single man aided in the survival of every species."

Sebastian, indifferent to the art of storytelling, scoffed, "Certainly you can't be trying to tell us such a tale is true?"

"There is always some fact in fiction, child." And after a moment of silence, "Do you believe in the Devil?" Sebastian pursed his lips, and his mouth became very small, stubbornness grinding into the wooden desk, and into those around him. His small nose scrunched and he felt the blood in his mouth as sharp canine teeth pierced delicate organ.

"Oh, come now, boy." Baron considered him a moment and then continued on. "Could it be that in this tale there is some truth?" He shrugged to no one in particular. "It is dreadfully unlikely one person singlehandedly saved everything and everyone, I'll give you that. Every rational person should be aware of this falsehood. But humans in themselves must have been aware, whether that be now or in the past, of a way to survive, so that they could have ground it deep into our very core system. To survive", he brought his gaze to Beast, who shivered, "Is nothing more than what you said; just sleep, and food…and excreting." He smiled.

The girl's brows knitted together. "To survive, dear Baron, is to find your purpose and live ardently for it."

He looked over her for a moment. "Shelter, food, warmth", and after a moment, "and passion, oh, they avidly control the fate and development of human society. And you", he gestured to them, "You have to be the ones to question goodness, values, morals, legends- indeed, even, rationality."

"That would make us not quite human." Peter murmured sarcastically from above, and Wendy nodded once in quiet agreement.

"Aren't we, though?" Joker projected his voice throughout the hall. "Aren't we, somewhat, freaks?"

Dagger bit his lip. "Big Sis isn't a freak", this earned him a distasteful glare from the ever silent Snake, and a stiffened back from Beast, but he continued on shamelessly, chuckling, "Joker, you make us sound like we're some circus act or something."

Sebastian giggled. Most heads looked to him, "You're forgetting. We are all killers. Not one of us here has one shred of sanity left in them; and I'm sure you wouldn't have it any other way." He paused for a considerably long time. "We're not about goodness or morals; indeed a  _circus_  seems the most feasible setting in which any of us would feel at all home."

There was a moment of whispers, and fervent glances; from to side, from down to up, and around once more. Baron found himself laughing a whisper, which earned him hushed spectators, waiting eagerly.

"So be it, my children." Baron spoke. "My beautiful terrors, my terrifying beauties…if you want this to be a circus, let it be known I am your father, and you belong to me."

And out of respect and shuddering high regard they all fell quite limp. The thought of having a family where there was no such thing as secrets made them smile. It was unbecoming for Sebastian, but he needed it, feverishly desired it.

So all was good, and all was nightmarish. There was the stuff of nightmares brewing in this group, and how excited Sebastian was. A hideous smile spread over his lips, parting them so the words could flow swiftly and freely into the world, where it would bloom for years to come.

"Noah's Ark Circus."

For God had already forsaken them, and each individual knew they couldn't fight off losing to insanity like Baron had described…So what better way to fend together as a group of blood-lusting killers…?

And Sebastian smiled the foulest smile that had ever dared to play with his lips, because suddenly he was so very unsure of what he was becoming.

But in reality…

He knew it all too well.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Circus is sent to eliminate their first targets. Sebastian finds himself aware of his differences with them.

Chapter 7

Sebastian gave his signature smile, leaning down to the weak thing. Crippled, nose wrinkling with something of frustration and fear as its tiny body was taken from the ground, and it sent out an alarm of mewling cries, eyes wide and glowing with disbelief. Its paws twitched, ("It's scared", Sebastian tells them, watching the creature as its body trembled and small head quivers and turns uncontrollably. "I told you to be quieter."), fragile body crumpling into Sebastian's cold hold.

"Sensitive", he murmured emotionlessly, slowly stepping through the glass shards and broken, tantalizing objects that had lined the mantel piece. "Look", he brought his voice to a whisper, gently stroking its fast moving ears. "Young things like this haven't developed their metabolism properly. And besides, felines are quite delicate to noise in general." He took one look around the room. He saw the shattered mirror, frame hanging precariously over the mantel piece, which had once shelved some foreign items (that might once have been priceless, had it not been for an excited Dagger who had rushed into the room, showcasing his impeccable skills at knife throwing- Sebastian had watched from afar, seeming to lack a 'killing implement', as Beast had put it, unlike the others who seemed quite prepared- and to the others disdain had thrown his knives at  _both_  targets, one of which caught them all without raising a sweat).

"My, my", Joker said, voice lowered. He leaned against the pillar, half his body tucked in shadow. "Thank the God of small things this property is set back quite a lot. I must say Dagger", he directed his attention to the boy, who was currently sulking, as Beast had been ignoring him after the targets had been eradicated, "You were rather hasty to get here. Perhaps, next time, we should listen to a more experienced… _silent_  killer." He turned his gaze to Sebastian, who was not paying them much mind, considering the objective had been reached, and winked despite him.

The others looked at Joker, avidly aware of the anger brewing inside him. He tugged at his right hand sleeve a little too often, they noticed, and had been stalking the crashed living area with a look of worn out irritation.

"We should clean up." Peter said, after debating this over with Wendy, who seemed even more reliant on Peter for her words. Though after what had happened, Sebastian wondered if he was comforting the kitten, or if the kitten was comforting him. Cradling it to his chest, he bit his lip and wondered, for a slight moment, if Baron sending them off together like this had been at all a good idea. After all, all Sebastian had wanted was a good kill.

"Is this a palace?" Beast asked, letting her wavy curls down so that they drooped over her shoulders. She carefully inspected her foot, where a small shard of glass had become lodged, after the mirror had been broken by the great many number of knives being thrown throughout the room. She hovered her fingers over the small bloodied wound and, eyes fixed in concentration, gripped the diamond shard firmly, and pulled with great care from her arch. With a grunt, she threw the blood stained piece sketchily away, so that it landed haphazardly on the others, sticking somewhat upright, crimson colour glinting from the light that the sideways-hanging chandelier was still managing to give off.

"Wasn't he a Prince, or something?" Peter offered, kicking away the broken glass in the general direction of the body. "Of some exotic area? India, was it?" The mop of tangled black hair laid face first near the fireplace. Upon entering, they had been surprised how dependant the man had been on the silver-haired figure. Indeed, this exotic Price had looked up, completely unconcerned of their number, or how they got into the room, and with a single finger sent his ever obedient butler to get rid of them. He had been fast and slick and seemed to have a very large amount of faith in the goddess, Kali, shaking his fist at them as Peter and Wendy weaved in and around him. He had obviously been of some good use, once, in the past.

 _Only this time_ , thought Sebastian fleetingly,  _he hadn't been_.

The kitten mewled softly for his master.

"Ssh, now, little orphan. You're one of us now."

There was a sudden blandness in his thoughts, and briefly his dared himself to look into the creature's eyes. They melted into something Sebastian hadn't seen before, and he watched the kitten some more.

Snake, forever silent, hovering calmly to the side, tilted his head as one of his many slinking barrels of poison moved around his neck, tongue lashing in out of its mouth as it surveyed the room. Joker caught the boys gaze and they stared for a moment, before Joker silently nodded.

Joker sighed. "Why aren't we out of here already?" His expression seemed pained as he spoke.

"Glory."

"Pride."

Sebastian draws his head to the side, eyes locking on one bloodied handprint on the wall. A small smile encompassed his lips. "Fun."

"Yes, well, we all have our reasons." Joker spat bitterly, tugging again at the right hand sleeve. Things were unnaturally calm.

Sebastian's mouth opened for a second, for he knew, they were all still basking in the wake of the afterglow that came after that surge of power, but then he closed it, and stood, holding the kitten near his heart (one, two, one, two, it beat in a constant rhythm against his rib cage). "Snake, Peter. Try lifting the Prince's body. We need to take them to morgue, remember?"

Snake, after a bored grunt, followed Peter to the body.

Beast groaned, "I wish to never know why, after eliminating the targets, we must remove their corpses from the scene."

When no one responded, darkness fell over her face, and she crossed her arms bitterly, eyes wandering around the room.

Dagger sent her a sideways glance and she returned it, lips pursed and eyes unforgiving, but something about it made Dagger smile and he laughed a happy-go-lucky laugh, hands resting on the dirtied white lounge, head back so that it rested on the tiger skin blanket that was askew over the armrest.

And the others looked to him, then to each other, and then carried on with the work at hand. Sebastian, cradling the elegant creature of dark beauty in his white, elongated fingers, smiled to himself.

"That went well."

 

But Joker stood with his eyes closed, and Sebastian knew he was bleeding. 

"Don't be a fool, Joker. There's no shame in a wound. You've done well to keep it from staining your clothes." 

"Be quiet", the boy murmured, hurrying himself into he was out of the house, but Sebastian saw him collapse before he was too far. Beast dropped the body to run to his side, and the others peeled back his coat to find the horror beneath it. 

 

"Oh, well", Sebastian murmured. "It could have been worse."

* * *

"I'm sorry", Sebastian's pink petal lips quivered, breathing in deeply and darkly, gorgeous blue eyes dropping dangerously into something like a passionate ruby, for a glinting moment, and his mouth opened, voice sweet, circling upwards into the hall, "Could you repeat that?"

Baron, arms crossed, sent him a vulgar smile. "As I said, I wouldn't mind if you all went along for this."

"Already?" Dagger piped up, eyes suddenly very large. "Are you sure?"

"Oh, quite, my child." Baron sent them all a slicing leer as he pushed off from the desk, walking into the centre of the hall. "Just eliminate them, and bring their bodies back here. We have someone who requires them."

"Is that all?" Beast droned, her voice full of half-suppressed sarcasm. Her long lashes curled upwards as one cat-like nail played with her lips, legs crossed as they rested on the desk beside her.

"Just remember your training." He spoke patronisingly, smile sickly charming, "Sleek, silent killers. Don't get too excited."

"You're not planning on informing us further?" Joker asked, hands twitching with delight.

"This one requires no internal knowledge, I assure you. I know you like to understand the workings of your victims, only sometimes its better having a limited knowledge." Baron locked eyes with the boy, who returned his gaze with a subtle smile. "You'll do what I say, won't you, little Joker?"

The boy responded with the dip of his head, and Baron smiled. "Good. You should depart shortly. I have some business to attend to; however, I shall be awaiting your return." Baron smiled at them once again, and, upon turning, left the hall.

There was silence for a moment, before the hall was in uproar, filled with cheering and excited hollering from blood deprived children. Sebastian turned to look at them all, their eyes sporting a magnificent urge for death.

Sebastian gave an amused smile, and looked to Joker, who returned his gaze with a cheerful smirk. "You do like that colour, don't you?"

Sebastian's expression did not change, and he tilted his head questioningly, "Whatever are you referring to?"

"Black." The boy sent his hand in the general direction of Sebastian's chest. He looked down at himself, brow tort, before looking up again, a white-lipped smile greeting Joker.

"Do explain."

Joker yawned mockingly. "Ah, Sebastian. All I meant was that you tend to gravitate towards the colour black."

"And whatever is wrong with that?" Sebastian returned.

"Oh, nothing at all, killer."

"You're a shadow." Beast dead-panned, trying to a great extent to seem uninterested in Joker's comments- and failing.

"Yes, as Beast says, Sebastian, black is the colour of a killer. Really, though, you're the perfect assassin."

"It's almost like you're part of them…the shadows, I mean." Dagger spoke excitedly, fingers tapping on the desk as he waited for the all clear. "And we haven't even seen you in action."

"I do work better alone."

"Work?" Dagger asked, chuckling lightly, flinging himself forward in seat. "Really? It's all fun and games to me."

Sebastian's gaze darkened slightly. "My, oh my, is that all you see it as?"

The atmosphere dropped instantly, the circus' spirits being veiled by the shadows; a layer of disconcert.

A dark chuckle escaped the boy. "Have any of you  _actually_  murdered anyone slowly, or alone? Without each other to hide behind?" His voice was low; an icy wind settled on the fingertips and toes of the members in that room. Another laugh. "How silly. I thought you were quite experienced."

"W-we are!" Dagger defended. Beast slipped her feet off the desk slowly, and straightened herself. "We've done it before!"

"Oh, is that so?" Sebastian turned, cocking his head ever so slightly. "You seem quite jumpy, Dagger. Throwing knives around until they stab one through the heart?" Dagger drew back from the boy. "Now where's the fun in that?"

Dagger swallowed, smiling softly. "Oh, yeah? W-well, what do you use?"

"Oh, your choice of weapon is fine, really. I've used a fork before. That along with a bread knife…considering both are quite blunt, it was a quite interesting experience, and I do recommend that if you ever receive the chance to use them, to take it up."

A moment of passing silence. A lithe serpent slid mutely into the room, and Snake, pushing back his chair, whispered, "It's time", collecting the beast in his arms.

"You really are  _exactly_  like it, aren't you?"

Sebastian, eyes simmering down into an innocent, shining blue, cocked his head in Joker's direction. "Sorry?"

And as they all stood to leave, each member of the Noah's Ark Circus opened their lips and spoke a single word.

"Black."

* * *

There was a menacing clicking noise that sounded from the huddled group, Peter's hand working quickly, scrapping and grinding the rocks together, attempting to get a spark.

"Come on, come on." Dagger urged, holding down Joker, who's constant smile had vanished, replaced by an agonising look. "It's getting worse. Big Sis, can you help?"

Beast, who had been sitting silently, concern shrouding her eyes, instantly responded, pushing down on the wound in an attempt to stop the sudden flow of blood.

"It reopened." She whispered. "Joker, please stop, it reopened."

"Shouldn't we take the arm?" Dagger's voice was urging them to hurry. "You know, before we set the place alight?"

"There isn't the slightest chance it could be reattached, now is there?" Sebastian spoke slowly, eyes fixed on the two stones, speaking over the howling groans of Joker.

"Well, Doctor might-!"

"Stop." Beast pleaded. Her long fingers were engrossed in the boy's blood as Joker, dropping into a state of unconsciousness, was silenced. "Joker…"

"Take him." Sebastian said. "Take him up to Snake and the targets."

And when no one moved, when nothing but the clicking of stones could be heard, it was Peter who opened his mouth, strong eyes unwavering from his task, and yelled, voice booming and powerful, "Take him!"

Sebastian's long hands wavered over Peter's. "May I…?" Before a response could be heard, Sebastian ground the flints together and struck; a single spark sent soaring into the dry brambles at the side of the house.

It was instantaneous. Surprised by how fast the small flame moved, growing an eating it's way to the grand palace, the group paced itself back and up the grassy hill to where Snake and the victims were, hidden by a set of bushes.

"We should be back, now." He whispered as Peter and Wendy scampered up the hill. Snake dropped down low and rushed down to the bottom to aid Beast and Dagger, who were struggling with Joker's limp body.

Sebastian reached the top and, upon looking down, found the dark creature curled on its previous master's chest, breathing heavily. Admiring the supple thing, he let his fingers caress the animal, and smiled when it brought its head up, eyes blinking and small, and it let out a soft mewling cry that somehow seemed so much louder, so much stronger than the crackling fire that had engulfed the palace, or murmurs from the group at hand.

"Come on." He urged them, and the group moved as one, collecting the targets with ease, Sebastian moving forward quickly in the direction of home.

 _Home_. He thought to himself, smiling briefly, holding the kitten to his chest.

With a snigger, Sebastian smiled, letting a vague silence rest over them all.

And with that, with nothingness, with no thought to the future or the past, indeed, not really caring, Sebastian's gaze twinkled.

Because he was becoming everything he had hoped for, and everything he hadn't.

_Black._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Circus returns with an arm-less Joker and Sebastian begins to understand his blood lust.  
> Meanwhile, the cloaked figures are pleased with the 'Master's' decision regarding Sebastian.. but what is this decision?

Chapter 8

"Get him in!" There was a flurry of limbs, and muffled cries as they dragged the limp Joker through the heavy oak doors, letting them whine back on their hinges and thud loudly, the sound resounding and weighty.

"Oh, now, see, that's why I told you", Beast dropped to her knees, ripping furiously at the bleeding cloth that had been tied quickly and askew around the fleshy remains of Joker's right arm, "to be careful on his right side."

Wendy dropped to her knees to help, untying, retying and tightening the cloth with Beast's help in a matter of moments. Snake moved swiftly to the others bodies slumped against each other near the wall.

He breathed in, sniffing loudly, a snarling hiss scattering itself around the room. Sebastian turned and tilted his head.

"What it is, Snake?"

"He will not be pleased if we arrive with his subjects rotting."

"They're not rotting." Wendy said slowly. "They've just died."

"Yes, well, they've still managed to exude a rather unpleasant smell." Dagger grinned, then coughed once, and quickly covered his mouth. "Alright, we better hurry."

"Remind me again, Sebastian", said Peter quickly, straining as he lifted the unconscious boy off the ground, "Why we're sneaking in?"

"Why", Sebastian turned, "do you think?"

All heads bowed themselves instantly.

Indeed, they were carrying an armless Joker, and had caused a slight ruckus at the palace, but Dagger, endearingly cheerful as usual, was quite certain that all would be forgiven, considering their objective had been reached in the end.

Upon opening his mouth to tell the others just that, Joker's wound resumed bleeding, and Dagger's hands were presently covered in a lathering red.

That's when they started to run.

* * *

"Oh, my!" There was a clatter and gonging of metal on metal as numerous items were cleared from a wooden table, upon which Joker was laid, a thin layer of cold sweat beading down upon his forehead. "Goodness…" The man- wild, unkempt hair with pince-nez askew upon his nose, white suit stunningly clean – dashed about them madly collecting implements and silver bowls and bandages and shouting orders (Sebastian remembers this scene as a tiresome continuation of events without breakage, pause or stop).

Beast, letting her previously folded arms drop to her side anxiously, attempted to approach the boy on the table, and received a sharp, snapping, "Do stop that!" and, frowning, stepped back, pout large and apparent.

"Alright, dear Wendy", the physician bent low, rather near the girl, and smiled sickly, "I'll take that!" With his fingertips he took the bowl, sloshing the water inside of it as he moved with an air of excitement to Joker, who was bleeding rather rapidly.

Sebastian watched with something of amusement and fascination from the door, stepping in only as the man rounded corners out of the line of sight. Whilst his dislike for this character was rather minimal, the child kept his distance as the doctor worked the boy.

"You didn't bring the arm?" He murmured, hands working furiously to clean the wound and stop the bleeding. Snake appeared rather suddenly from a side door in the pristine room, his head bowed and pet snake- Sebastian noticed his alternating between them to wear around his neck- slithering and hissing in a more dormant manner than usual.

"I deposited the bodies to the morgue." He said.

The doctor gave him a sideways glance, raising a singular arched eyebrow.

Snake nodded. "He is currently determining the age of the younger victim to see if he is at all useful for your purposes."

"Thank you, Snake." The physician said snidely, whipping a needle to the light and inspecting it, eyes squinting.

There was a moan and a series of confused sounds from the boy on the table. "Oh, dear…" The doctor whispered absentmindedly. "On second thought…"

He beckoned the children in, and each lay with their weight on a struggling Joker.

That is, all except for one.

"We're sorry, Joker, we need to the fix this wound." Beast whispered, and the struggling faded slightly.

The physician turned, eyes locked on Sebastian's dark curls. "Aren't you going to help your friends?"

Sebastian chuckled softly, darkly. He laughed so quietly it was uncertain whether they all heard him.

But all stopped. And all turned. And all stared.

_It was unbecoming…_

"Actually", snapping his eyes upward, "I am rather more interested in  _that_." He sent one bone white finger in the general direction of the figure at the end of the room.

There came the slightest, disturbed giggle, and a softly hoarse whisper of, "My, my…what a capricious little boy…"

"What was the result?" Doctor asked, returning to his work.

"Lucky me!" The figure raised a cloaked hand to his mouth and giggled again. "Two for me, none for you."

"I see." There was a brief pause. "In which case", a sigh, "we'll have to use one of mine."

"Such a shame…" The man laughed, "…that you can't use one of them…"

"You do realise, Undertaker, they're some of the ones bringing us our subjects."

"Of which I have lots and you have few." He laughed again. "Am I not winning our little bet?"

The doctor, finishing his stitching and cleaning of the wound, put down the needle. "Yes, I do believe so."

"I do like him." The man nodded towards Sebastian. "Reeks of death."

This time the doctor said nothing and instead rounded the corner. There were a few muffled sounds from behind a door, but the children weren't at all concerned with what was happening  _there_ , no, not when Joker had fallen silent, eyes on where his arm should have been. A wave of murmurs of comfort went through the crowded children.

"Beast!" The doctor called from somewhere unseen. "Bring the saw and the mould, would you?" Beast, looking to Joker, who nodded once, quickly jumped up and did as she was told.

Sebastian's eyes furrowed, but it was not at this action, but instead at the silent, smiling man.

Staring at him.

This unwavering grin was slightly off putting to dear Sebastian, who shuddered, and took a single step backwards. There came yet another screeching laugh, and soon the doctor had run out from the corner.

"Oh, Undertaker, do shut up."

The laughter quietened to a snigger. "Dear Doctor, do lighten up!"

"You shouldn't keep them waiting like that." He murmured. The laughter stopped.

"Mmm…. Quite right." And with that, the undertaker had gone.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "How peculiar."

Doctor sighed, "Indeed."

"Yes."

"Quite."

The two stared at each other for a moment before the doctor cracked a smile. "Well then. Joker, I should have your new arm ready in a matter of hours. Please rest for now, after you report to Kelvin, obviously, and come back here in the evening. If you want, you can have Beast or Dagger to accompany you, which is fine."

Joker nodded and scrambled off the table, mumbling his thanks quickly and half-heartedly.

"New arm?" Sebastian question as Joker pushed by him, the others following like dogs. "I'll assume they're prosthetic, like Beast's or Dagger's limbs, is that correct?"

"Yes." The doctor smiled, turning and removing items from the table. "That is correct."

"Then I must ask." Sebastian said, stepping forward, "What, exactly, are your… _purposes_ , if I heard properly."

"Well, indeed, your hearing seems intact", said the physician, "which takes quite a load off of my schedule – I'm not sure if prosthetic eardrums would work – but really, child, this isn't much of your business."

"No, I believe it's none of my business." Sebastian smiled. "But I can assure you, when your friend commented on my being 'reeking of death', he was not lying. I'm rather skilled in certain ways." Sebastian paused, "Torturous ways."

The doctor's face fell (laterally, not literally) and then regained some of its former shape. "Well-" he began, but was rudely interrupted by the noisy departure of two familiar characters.

Sebastian look past Doctor to them; there were two, and both were covered in a blood red cloak. He dipped his head at them, and they returned the gesture, Sebastian smiling slyly as the Doctor turned to and from both parties, attempting to deconstruct the greeting.

"You have met?" He asked.

"Oh, yes." He whispered reticently, "They retrieved me from the monastery."

"Oh." Doctor nodded. "Ah…" he continued nodding. "Well…" He moved to the side and the figures began to walk, clutching to each of their chests an odd looking iron box, of sorts. And as they walked, one paused, and looked down to the boy, and the boy looked peeked up, into those unusual amethyst eyes.

"Do you like pain?" A voice sang out, the voice of liar, and Sebastian was uncertain which of the two the voice had sprung.

"Oh, yes." He whispered. "Such a thing of beauty."

There was a long moment, then, of nothingness.

…

Then the figure bowed, and the figure turned, for indeed, the child  _was_  all the curiosity in the world.

 _Intriguing_ , the figures thought,  _the Master chose rightly…_

And with that, they left the room.

There was a brief, awkward pause after they had gone, in which the Doctor, his hands near his face as he studied the child, was silent, and Sebastian, smile faded, was silent too.

"My, my…" The undertaker's voice broke the stillness that had fallen over the two. "Wasn't that interesting?" Before he, too, departed back into the morgue.

Another moment passed between them.

"…As I was saying", Sebastian began, "I'd like very much to hurt you; that is, if you keep from the information I desire."

The doctor, who was suddenly ruffled, smiled, and hastily spat, "Well then, Sebastian, why don't you come later", he murmured, smoothing down his shirt, "And find out for yourself?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Master...

Chapter 9

A struggled, rasping breath escaped the lungs, curling through the narrow passage and out, circling around the darkened room. The eerie scent of rotting dampness had settled upon the mantle, and curtains, and had become stale. Had the curtains been tied open, allowing light to disperse into the room, the glass window slightly ajar, the room would have been somewhat precious; only this was not the case and the room remained as secluded as was required and, indeed, that was that.

A sigh escaped him, and he removed his glasses with such habitual ease, he barely noticed he was cleaning them. He replaced them in moments, and moved quietly to the mantle, where he inspected its cleanliness with tiresome frustration, removing his gloves and swiping a single finger across the painted wood.

Nothing. As usual.

He returned his glove to his hand. Another sigh.

He was not impatient, no, far from it. Only, these particular characters that were paying his master a visit were terribly shady- and despite said characters being under  _his_  command, their impending arrival made him continuously return to his pocketwatch and stare at that ticking hand for a few seconds longer.

After the pairs' last visit his master had been struck down with a peculiar illness and had been forced to remain in bed to recover. His body had rejected their proposal, apparently, and no new or useful information could come of it.

The man scoffed. Recalling over the many hours of time, blood and sweat he himself had put into the project, he was disgusted with his master's sincere adoration for the recent addition to the plan, as well as his utmost faith for said addition to excel and bloom into what was required of him. Particularly, though, he was bitter about how unsuccessful the project had become in recent times.

An unusual feeling settled around him and he pushed he glasses up his nose and cleared his throat. "I do believe that they have arrived, sir."

A muffled cough was the only response he was granted with, but he bowed low and deep and started for the door, long bone-white fingers clasping over the rustic handle. He pulled down upon it and swung open swiftly, a blast of cleanliness swirling into the room. The man inhaled the fresh air quickly before nodding once and moving to the side.

"Do come in." He murmured and, almost instantly, the red robed figures glided in, their cloaks trailing along the floor. Each figure clasped an iron box firmly to their chest, moving towards the figure in the bed with an air of slight hesitation. They bowed before him. Eyes flicked open, bright and clear, and a smile greeted them.

"I had a dream last night."

The two did not respond, nor move, but the body in the bed did not mind.

"I dreamt about what occurred upon your last visit, and I believe I understand why that last transition failed so terribly."

"Do go on." The cloaks murmured.

"Age." After a moment of silence, the voice continued. "So far, I have only been able to identify the faults, and ways to change said faults, where the ages have been younger than my own."

The figures exchanged glances, and nodded once. "We'll look into it." Moving as one entity, they gave a sweeping bow and then straightened themselves, unclasping the locks with such preciseness it was uncanny.

A gurgling gasp met the insides of those iron boxes and a shaking bony hand shivered as it reached for them.

The man walked from the door, "Are you pleased?"

"Oh, yes. Quite." Three fingers glided over the sides of the box. "They're so clean and perfect. How do you make them that perfect?"

The boxes were placed closer the body in the bed without an answer to its question. There was quite a while before the body gasped, "And the boy?"

"Rather intriguing."

"Very curious."The figures responded.

 _A terrible waste of time._ The man thought, reaching for his glasses to clean.

"Is he wondrously loyal? How's his method of killing?"

"He seems to be loyal to things that take his fancy. It is certain that he can be directed to be loyal to you."

The body nodded, eager, eyes shining.

"He enjoys blood, but has identified that in order to go unnoticed he must develop a sleeker,  _cleaner_  style."

"But good, yes?" The body asked.

"Oh, perfect."

"A murderous fiend."

"Good." And after a second. "Shall we start?"

One of the figures gave a slight chuckle. "My dearest master, I adore you for being so keen."

The body shrugged. "I must identify the factor that is causing everyone to break. I do not like it when the humans break." Silence. "It's uncomfortably unclean, too, not being able to move. I believe I've soiled myself several times. There has to be something, whether it be in the limbs or the mind that is causing them to reject me."

"Kelvin assures us his is willing to maintain our contract. We will be able to identify and destroy those factors."

"We'll make the world better. Like before."

"And the boy, can he do that?" The body asked.

A creeping smile scurried from the dark, and hands removed the cloaks from their beings. Peculiar instruments were picked up and inspected, and the contents of the box were carefully raised.

"That child will soon be able to anything."

"And why's that?"

The figures looked at each other and then to the figure lying in the bed, and then they both opened their mouths, smiling, "Because that boy is a demon. And demons, well...

"They need orders."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Perhaps it would have been peculiar, but violence would have been the most reasonable retaliation in such a situation. Indeed, he had expected it. Therefore, it came as quite a surprise when Baron did not mumble but a few words, telling the group he had anticipated as much, and that their messy tactics and lack of skill had caused their bloody demise.

Had they gone in and taken the butler out at the door, rather than spreading his castrated remains upon the wall, their task would have been accomplished so much sooner. Had they not fought for control in the murders, then the killings would have remained neater, less animalistic.

Sebastian felt a sickness upon himself, at the sound of the word.

 _Animalistic_ ; a bitter, biting, degrading word, an attempt at hurting them,  _him_ …Baron knew of his bond with animals, and of his hatred towards those who would compare them to him negatively. Sebastian heard the snarls at the back of his throat, but swallowed them, letting them drown and sink into the heated darkness.

_A flash._

Black tendrils of hair, vicious snarling, grabbing, gnashing,  _pulling._   _What had she become that was lower than 'animal'?_

 _Murder. Mother._ Sebastian suddenly realises just how similar those two words are.

Baron smiled, "Indeed, the entire thing was to show that such tasks are never done well as a group."

A daring silence followed. The boy could sense the grinding back tone; a stab at the hidden wound of a past crime the circus had committed prior to Black's initiation.

Baron grinned patronisingly;  _painfully_. Joker was the first to stand. He knew what would be said next.

_Had you been better, Joker, you'd still have that arm._

And with one single, creeping smile coming from our killer, the boy and remaining members stood, and left in pursuit of their leader.

But Sebastian remained, a lingering enigma, and for a moment the two shared some mutual amusement.

"Burning the evidence was perhaps the most intelligent act of that unfortunate incident." Baron smiled.

Sebastian returned the gesture, "And that in itself was a desperate move."

A chuckle resounded throughout the hall.

"I plan on refining my technique, dear Baron. I believe I've moved on from finger painting."

"Oh? Why the change of heart?"

"A psychopath kills only for pleasure. I treat death as a form of art."

Baron bit back a gale of laughter. "My dear child, you do have a lot to learn." Sebastian said nothing. "I do believe I have something for you", Baron paused, hands folding over the edge of the table, "A job, I mean, where you can… _practice_  your neatness. Not anything to big, so it won't matter if you draw some attention, though do try to keep that to a minimal."

A tickle of a smile coursed across his lips. "But of course." Sebastian felt eyes upon him, and swung, meeting Wendy's gaze, her lips parted a fraction.

"Why are you always so silent?" He murmured, standing, flashing a quick smile to Baron before leaving. "You'll be a wonderful murderess with such silent movements."

Sebastian's subtle attempt at a compliment was not returned well. He noticed Wendy's hand stiffen around the side of the door, then go slack, and she returned it to her side. The petite girl bowed her head slightly, "Quickly, Black, they've all gone."

Now, Sebastian thought this rather strange, for he knew Wendy to be rather keen when it came to murder, but the suggestion of it just now, well, had sent shivers down her spine. Titillating as it was, to see the young girl squirm, all that came to mind was the dagger-like desire; the gnawing and longing to  _know._

It was this peculiar yearning that sent Sebastian to the front of the group, where an infuriated Joker spat empty threats at the air.

"The bastard…" He mumbled, as Sebastian approached, sliding in next to the boy who cradled the remainder of his arm awkwardly against his chest.

Sebastian hinted a smile. He lacked the skills to comfort Joker, he knew, though perhaps he could improve them as Baron had suggested?

"Dear Joker, care to explain?" Sebastian gave a coy smile. The look that was returned was rather unpleasant; Joker's usual self seemingly disappeared.

Joker raised an eyebrow coyly. "Oh my…are you being serious?" Sebastian gave a slight nod. "In which case, I'll start at the beginning. Did you know Baron found us on the streets?"

Sebastian smiled no.

"Can't have been more than a year or so ago…I took care of everyone before that. And then…" He scoffed, and turned, catching Beast's eye. "Beast, darling…you'll be a good little girl for daddy, won't you? Do what I say?"

The response was a few sniggers, and a blushing Beast, pushing forward to the front of the group, and away, out of sight.

Joker giggled. "She gets angry quite easily, you know...Ah, well…I suppose we all need beauty sleep." Joker turned to the others, who nodded silently, aware of their dirtied state. Wendy and Peter looked down upon themselves, and then each other, with chagrin. Something about their blood-covered clothes, and red-dyed hair, and rotten smell made them uneasy. The fact they were surrounded by it did nothing to help.

Peter held Wendy by the wrist, "We're going to shower. We all stink", and led the poor girl away. Snake had slithered from their presence quite a while back, it seemed, as there was no trace of him in any direction they looked.

Sebastian returned to Joker.

"I'm coming with you tonight", he murmured, "To collect your arm."

"Ah, I see." Joker said, reaching for the bandaged stump at his side. "Of course."

Sebastian was grateful he hadn't asked questions. It was obvious, though, Sebastian was not joining him as a comfort.

 _And tonight_ , Sebastian thought,  _I might get a few answers to my questions._


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Ciel is but a dream

**Chapter 11**

Dagger, spirited as ever, ducked his head around the corner.

"Beast is yelling at you, Joker. You need your rest."

Indeed, Beast's voice, strong and defiant, had screeched its way around the corner- she'd been too mortified to speak to Joker face to face after his impression of Baron had sent her running – however, the two boys who sat around it had not bothered to reply. And neither found that at all cruel.

Behind the wall was an uncomfortable silence, invaded only every minute where Beast yelled loudly for Joker to join them. They heard Joker and Sebastian laughing from around the corner, and bit her lip, her stomach twisting and growling. Beast let out a slow breath. No one else moved. Wendy looked down and was about to bit her nails until she squealed, and the others swung impulsively, inspecting her from afar for any signs of damage. She gave a nervous, apologetic smile, and held her hands at a distance. Her nails were stained red. She rose to wash them, and was struck with an impervious memory of similar state. Wendy stopped and Peter, who had been watching her, went quickly to her side.

"What's the matter?"

She shook her head, eyes soft and heavy, staring at her nails with a painfully nostalgic look. "I can't-"

"I know." He spoke quickly, but Wendy was unsure if the memory they couldn't forget was the same. Indeed, they all told it differently. She inspected her nails again, and became agonisingly afraid that the blood in which her nails were painted was not Joker's, and the scenes from earlier that day proceeded to play themselves in her head.

All of them had been rather eager for their first kill.  _First kill._ She lulled that phrase over for a while, still in Peter's arms. Well, now,  _first kill_  wouldn't be all correct, now would it? Wendy wondered silently if it was only Sebastian who had truly enjoyed the murder they'd all committed today.

The girl swallowed, and pushed lightly against Peter's hold, trotting to remove from her being the bodily fluids of another. After running down flights of stairs and out of the doors, and when she was safely out of hearing range in the garden, Wendy threw up. She was more disgusted in herself then she was in anyone else.

* * *

Joker, who had been talking discreetly to Sebastian, tugged impatiently at the dirtied bandages around the remains of his arm. "They get dirty so quickly, so don't they?"

Sebastian smiled. "I do believe that that could be said about a lot of things." He conjured forth the image of mangled bloodied clothes sticky to sweaty, pale bodies; and then the image of those white walls in the hall at the monastery, and how the red had defiled them so quickly.

Joker chuckled. "Oh, yes. I see your point." He nodded once, holding his right shoulder, and then left.

It was not long till night fall, but then again Joker was about to sleep, and Sebastian found himself tumbling in the current of the day's events. He rose, slowly, and peeked around the corner, waving silently. Wendy gave a slight smile, but she was the only one to see the boy's departure.

When Sebastian reached his quarters, he checked the gap in the stone wall and was met with a glinting wink from the knife he had slipped into its grasp. His painted crucifix lay askew on the floor beside. He gave it a small, disgruntled look. It offended him, for he was abnormal. Sebastian was well aware that he offended God.

He kicked it to the corner, just out of sight of his bed, before removing his shoes, his long dark socks, took the hooded cape and laid it to one side, over the chair. He let himself fall gently onto the stuffed mattress, the thing creaking softly as he lifted his legs up to slip them under the covers. He trusted his instincts to wake him before the night had truly set in.

His eyelids were instantly heavy. Sebastian felt he had the weight of the entire world on all that he could see, touch, feel, smell…

* * *

_He was perhaps the most beautiful thing Sebastian had seen. He looked somewhat like him, with dark ebony hair, and ivory skin, a series of clashes that seemed to blend into the child, to create him. His eyes were much bluer, deeper; perhaps a little more compelling, more entrancing than the charming killer himself. The child was unscarred, without a blemish. Sebastian could see the corner of his mouth tipping into a smile. There was something, though, a dark something. It wasn't from the mother who held him, or the father who laughed gently, or from the loyal dog that wagged impatiently, waiting for the newborn to be brought down to him. But Sebastian, his eyes surveying the scene, upon locking eyes with the beautiful child, realised something._

_They had each, in that moment, claimed the other._

When Sebastian woke from his slumber he was not at all startled, but rather aware of himself, and of the room, only slightly shaky on what had occurred. He remembered the boy's features, his outline, but the memory, or thought, seemed distant.

He wanted to corrupt him.

He brought himself to the side of the bed, dragging his feet onto the cold, stony floor. He trusted himself enough to stand, but fell back into a stagger, and was brought over to the corner where his crucifix lay. He glared at it, and thought it had moved slightly from its place in the corner. And then, upon glancing up and finding it dark outside his window, the boy moved with such ferocious speed and had sleekly made it out of his room and turned to close the door before—

"Ah!" It was a high, resonating sound. They heard it echo. Sebastian and Joker, both responsible for the intruding noise, gave each other wry smiles. Where Joker's right arm had been was wrapped with dirtied bandages, though the bleeding appeared to have stopped. Joker, who appeared to not have slept at all, bent his head in the direction of the corridor. For a moment, Sebastian thought of the glinting knife that sat untouched in the crack in his wall, then though against it.

"What is it?" Joker mumbled sleepily. "Doctor's impatient, and especially after the Undertaker gave him a hard time today-"

"It's nothing." Sebastian murmured, voice low and soft and innocent,  _oh yes!_  "Lead the way, dear Joker."

And the smile was returned, Joker turning and taking that first step into the curling darkness in the corridor.

"But of course, Black."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"Wendy's rather ill." Joker stated, gripping his shoulder anxiously as the two prodded down the stairs.

"Oh?" Sebastian murmured, not at all concerned for the girl.

"Yes. She was sick in the garden. She said it was the eggs that she had in the morn, but if I remember correctly you also consumed them? You're not ill too, are you?"

"Hmm? No, no…" Sebastian bit his lip, heading cocking to one side. What could those robed figures possibly need from the Undertaker? And what was his rivalry with the Doctor about? "I feel fine."

The two boys stumbled forth blindly in the darkness, their path illuminated only by intervals of flaming torches. At one point, Sebastian tripped, and fell, slamming into the wall. His fingers brushed against the deathly cold stone for a moment; something was engraved there, a symbol of the old religion. He could see it, etched into the stone; foreboding and evil. This was not a religious place. The monastery from which Sebastian was brewed and every other religious order surrounding these parts were of the New World. He swallowed the small lump forming in his chest. The symbol hadn't been there long, but even so.

Sebastian knew very well that no matter he had killed men. Something ruled them.

"Alright, Black?" Joker whispered. Sebastian instantly pulled away. "There was blood underneath her nails, too; it wasn't mine." He stated quickly. Sebastian gave him an incredulous look; the girl was a murderess and blood should mean nothing to her but-

_Fun, fun._

Joker chuckled. "No, I don't think you understand. She was eating before. We believe she might have ingested some of it."

Sebastian's look changed immediately, blinking several times and turning away. The conversation didn't interest him.

No, what interested him was that image of the blue eyed boy with pale, porcelain skin. The child's unblemished, perfect soul shone before his eyes.

And Sebastian wanted to corrupt him.

"She'll be fine."

* * *

"Dear Doctor, is it done yet?" The Undertaker peered around the corner, grin apparent under long, silver hair. "Is it?"

"Yes, yes." He muttered, obviously nervous; the young child with dark hair had unnerved him. "The boy, the one that smells…what do you know of him?"

"Ah-uh!" Undertaker extended one bony finger and shook it. "I cannot simply give up such information, Doctor, oh no."

The Doctor paused, biting his lip. "Baron ordered him, didn't he? Those cloaks know him. The Master knows him."

The Undertaker paused. "They're coming here more frequently, are they not? Considering they require my works, I have no doubt I shall win our little bet."

A snort resounded around the room. "Never mind, then… Will you go now? Joker will be here soon."

A toothy smiled departed from the room and almost immediately Joker and a distracted Sebastian entered the room.

"Ah, Joker!" The Doctor looked up, glancing about him in a flurry. He retreated from the room, eyeing a dazed Sebastian suspiciously. "Why don't you two come in?"

Joker bit his lip and gripped the stump of his arm awkwardly as he stepped over the threshold. Sebastian followed.

The redhead moved slowly to where the Doctor stood, half inside a previously closed door that had intrigued Sebastian. The darked haired killer eased his way around the table where Joker had laid not a few hours before and peered over the Doctor's shoulder.

It's almost a crime in itself, he thought, that the profound act of taking a life had become so drained of artistry.

He'd never seen anyone so pale; though the way Joker's face drained of any sign of life did provide suitable competition.

He was fairly young, no older than ten, with sandy hair. His head was lolled back. Sebastian could tell from the way the skin was a single colour- a pearly white, with no bruising – that the boy had, apparently, been frozen. But that was after he was killed. A thin, black wound crossed his neck. The wound had been cleaned after the subject had been pronounced deceased. He bore a symbol of the Old Religion down his left arm, but it was the right that was missing.

Doctor spun around to find an amazed Sebastian and a deathly white Joker peering behind him. In his arms was Joker's prosthetic arm, which he attached the stump of his shoulder. He carefully connected several wires to certain parts of the muscle, and then fastened and clamped the contraption over the boy's shoulder. Joker wiggled his fingers, lips pursed very tightly.

Sebastian moved from his side to inside the freezer room. There were many of them, all children, all bearing a similar marking to the young subject on his left.

"You…" An angry hissed sizzled behind him. Sebastian turned; Joker was staring the Doctor down. "You bastard..."

Sebastian remembered the Undertaker and Doctor competing, and instantly wondered what  _that_  was about.

Joker clenched his new fist. "He's my age. And he's dead." It was no more than a whisper, and Joker turned, tense, and left the room. The Doctor gazed at him with confusion. "I was going to tell him…"

"Tell him?" Sebastian asked, from behind. The Doctor jumped and turned.

"Yes, about the process."

"Well then", Sebastian said, "Why not tell me?"

"This is the reason we ask you to bring all targets here, so they can become subjects. I need children, however, for anything prosthetic, or for spare organs… Children who bare the mark of the Old Religion… their bone structure is much easier to work with than with adults. And besides, even I could use them, the adult targets are already claimed by the Undertaker."

"And why", Sebastian murmured, intrigued, "Is that?"

"Under the Master's orders." The Doctor said absentmindedly. "Do not think I can give away such information –  _Black_  was it? – I don't have access to it myself."

"Those cloaked figures that brought me here; they're in on it as well, aren't they?"

"They", the Doctor said, voice low, "Are something of both man and God."

"Whatever does that mean?"

"They work for the Master."

"But why bodies? Why does He need bodies?"

"Parts", the Doctor corrected, "They need parts. I'm not sure why. No one's sure why."

Sebastian pondered this. The child's blue eyes flashed before him, innocent and pure,  _so pure._ And then, rather suddenly, they were gone, gone from the very essence of Sebastian, and he thought of the child no more.

"One could ponder their creation, existence and intention for years, dear Black. I do not advise you think on them much longer."

"Well, dear Doctor." Sebastian said, pushing himself from the wall. "I'm afraid that might be a slight problem."

"And why, might I ask, is that?"

"I'm already intrigued."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

He would describe the symbol as something from the Old Celtic language, or perhaps something Greek. But it was something no longer of this world- that he knew. The marking was certainly smaller than that of everyone else he knew, and it was placed carefully, and rather conveniently, so that during those tedious health inspections with all the other boys, Grell would not be caught.

You see, dear reader, Grell was a spy. And a spy for the Old Religion, no less.

Understandably, there was a resistance, had always been a resistance, against the Master. Those who were a part of the Shinigami were integrated into parts of the New World and kept tabs on their development, and how much control the Master had over them. Every now and again, certain Shinigami were sent out to plant things, such as symbols, into constitutions, or non-religious areas in an attempt to the convert them back to the Old Religion.

Which was why Grell was running.

Sneaking into assassin central had been a lot easier then he first expected. He spent time carving several symbols- his symbol – into numerous stone walls. The implement was wooden and pointed, and had been stashed away in the folding of his clothes. Now, this had been the easy part. It was only when Grell was due to leave, only when voices could be heard descending the stairs -

Grell quickly shot his breath upward, removing the flame above the symbol he had just etched and sprinted to the corner where there was no light. Just as quickly, flesh hit stone, and for a worrying second Grell thought he'd been caught. But then, as nimble fingers traced his creation, and a backlight of filtered light outlined the features of his beloved Sebastian, Grell knew to keep very quiet. He clenched his fists – Sebastian's being there changed his orders – and waited until Sebastian's companion dragged him along with some dull story.

Now this was interesting. Grell had seen and reported those robed figures that had taken him from the monastery and knew very well where Sebastian would end up. But he was older now, far more compelling and a part of Grell had wanted to give himself away for a chance that Sebastian might look him in the eyes.

But then again…Grell's red hair was enflamed with the glowing fire as he walked by torches. The best way to train Sebastian would be to throw him head first in with blood and death with perfect lack of organisation skills. And the Master had done just that.

Grell's superior, William, was camouflaged as the assistant of the Master. This had occurred after generations of the Spear family slowly accumulating trust and prestige in the New World, whilst still maintaining utter loyalty to the Shinigamis. And now, after years, Will held that position, and at all costs, nothing could give him away.

For most of the time, Will was away on errands for the Master. They kept an eye on Sebastian and his development. The child had the skeleton of a sociopath and the nimble hands of a murderer. In short, he was perfection.

By the time Grell returned to the Shinigamis, Will had moved on, and Grell was forced to relay his success through numerous communication devices.

He was slightly bothered by the fact that Sebastian hadn't simply noticed his presence and hailed him. Of course, he was more troubled that Sebastian and his circus were inadvertently spreading the New World.

When they received word that Sebastian had seen a child,  _the_  child, the boy that was to born into a battle of New and Old, the boy that would change  _everything_ , Grell couldn't help but be a little jealous.

How could someone as perfect as Sebastian not notice someone as beautiful as Grell?

 _Perfection._ Certainly, that was the only thing Grell and the Master agreed on.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Master and the Master's interest in Sebastian

hapter 14

"He has become far more fascinating than one could ever hope for", he murmured, reaching up to toggle his glasses. "Unfortunately, he has had his first vision of the child."

"Oh?"

"Quite. Though it was not the original reaction we expected."

"Worse than?"

"Oh no. He wants to corrupt his soul."

"Oh, I do believe we can help dear Sebastian with that endeavour, can we not, Will?"

William T. Spears swallowed slowly, removing his glasses – which had become strangely foggy – and replaced them, "What did you have in mind?"

"Death."

"Despite the fact death could possibly draw him closer to Sebastian?"

"That is my intention. If Baron lives up to our expectations, then we should have no trouble in having Sebastian all to ourselves. And Ciel will be out of the way, if Sebastian cruelty holds true."

"And what says it will?"

"The boy killed his own mother, Will. At such a young age, and he already knew what to do, how to speak. He removed her from the world because she, as a killer, was so utterly degrading and worthless and to act in such a way…no, see, Sebastian understands that murder is an art form. The Circus has only begun, Will."

Will paused thoughtfully. "The Noah's Ark Circus? It is a curious name."

"Is it? I thought it was clever."

"A collection of completely different individuals held together by a past crime, a desire of blood and dear, dear Baron."

Will smiled softly. "Not so curious."

A chuckle, and then a cough, and a splutter of blood…the Master clutched the stitching at his side. "I don't understand, I thought we were getting somewhere."

"It appears the corruption is too deep to be understood in this specimen. Shall I call them to you?"

"No."

"But-"

"I'm not yet rotting. There is still time."

Will bit his lip and murmured, "As you wish", before returning to his seat. It was a few moments before the Master recovered and the conversation could resume.

"Shall we move on from Sebastian?"

"What would you prefer to talk about, Master?"

The Master paused. "Has the experiment been at all fruitful? Do tell me. I seemed to have forgotten."

Will swallowed, adjusted his glasses once more, and removed from his left breast pocket a list of notes that had been made on the Master's current experiment.

"Specimens rot on an average of three months. The Master has identified a large amount of hatred in the blood of each specimen, especially the younger adults. It appears Shinigami are still spreading the Old Religion", it was here Will let out a soft sigh, "Though not as successfully as they would have hoped. The New World will remain."

A chilling smile enveloped the lips of the Master. "Well done, Will. Now, just one final thing…"

"Yes?"

"Don't let my dear Sebastian out of our sight for a moment."

"Of course, my Majesty."

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 8 years pass and Ciel haunts Sebastian's dreams. Only, something more solid haunts Ciel's young life..

**Chapter 15**

Perhaps the only thing embedded in Ciel's memory that can be the absolute and undeniable truth is the memory of a dog howling. Everything else is memory, and Ciel knows all too well that memory is an unreliable thing. Running about in the halls of his hallowed home, Ciel follows the sound of his dear Labrador to the point when all sound stops, and there is a sickly silence, an unruly sound that makes Ciel's fingers itch. He swings about in a flurry of confusion, and comes across a smell; he is able to identify it as urine, and expects to find Lizzy crying in the corner because the dog scared her half to death.

Though there is nothing, when he turns, and finds the urine trail to abruptly stop. He calls out for the dog, "Sebastian!" Though there is not a single response to the call. Ciel stops, and pulls awkwardly against his outfit, and finds it terribly itchy and not at all pleasant, and to add to this torment he finds himself sweating and is becoming increasingly bitter.

He's rather tired of playing now and wishes Lizzy to come out of hiding. He plans on hailing her, biting his lip and tripping about himself, but a feeling of eeriness settles about him and Ciel stops. He smells the sea; not the pretty smell, but the salty, fishy smell and then he smells rust. It's almost metallic; Ciel can taste it in his mouth, invading and grinding against his tongue, and he recoils blindly, staggering backwards to a point where he trips back and lands on the ground and there he is, boy, Sebastian's taking a quick rest! And Ciel rolls about to the dog's flank and buries his small head into its breast so the soft fur tickles his nose and the two are eye to eye.

Even to this day, Ciel doesn't know why it takes a few minutes before he is crying. The dog's tongue hangs loosely out, folded slightly over its canine. His eyes are cloudy and there's one other detail Ciel stares at for a long while. The dog has no throat.

He thrusts his body upwards and pushes back against the floor until his back buckles against the wallpapered wall. Rasping breaths invade the particularly lifeless scene. And perhaps if it had just beent he dog, Ciel might have found a way to recover and find his parents.

Though he would find them soon enough.

Little Lizzie, dear Lizzie… She looks almost like a doll with that pale, porcelain skin. Her neck hangs down so Ciel cannot see her eyes, which are drained and open in shock. Her pales lips are exposed and blood stained. She's been stripped of her clothes and her body bears several blue and brown marks. Ciel holds his stomach and looks away. The dagger's still in her heart.

Her parents are collapsed on the floor in a vile pile of human carnage. Ciel dares not look at them or his stomach would empty its contents. And for some reason – Ciel believes it to be shock – none of this seems at all real, but just another one of his rotten nightmares.

That is, until, he smells it, the smoke, and something else, as he rounds a few more corners. Stumbling forward he sees her arm reaching out, enveloped by a casket of eternal flames. There's a bite at the back of his throat and the stench of burnt steak in his nose and little Ciel, dear Ciel, wonders why he didn't hear his dear mother scream. He turns and runs, away from the burning, and turns right down a corridor. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a child and pauses, but by the time he's turned around the image has vanished, and he understands it to be his innocence, suddenly gone.

He continues forward until he's the breaking of a vase as it crashes onto the floor, and then spins in the direction of it; he's enveloped in a thick grey and coughs haphazardly, pulling his garment over his nose and mouth.

It's a peculiar image. Vincent sits in the longue room as if resting his eyes.

"Father?" Ciel murmurs through his clothes, moving dangerously near the fire. Ciel begins to sob and squeal and stamp, shouting and sneering into the flames, running forward to his father with the intention of looking him in the eye and telling him to wake up,  _get up! "Get up, Father!"_

He never does make it to the chair, however, before the glint catches his eyes and Ciel, huffing, realises all too well.

Vincent Phantomhive is dead. And along with the course of tradition Ciel knows all too well, he reaches down with both hands and collects the round sapphire, slipping it onto his thumb and turning his back on the lifeless Phantomhive Earl.

"Someone! Someone help me! Everyone is going to die!"

And he knows why it's happened. He's well aware of the Phantomhive's and Middleford's resistance against the New World. They thought they'd been careful; yet obviously not as careful as possible.

But the thing that itches at the back of his mind is who.  _Who_..?  _Who-_

"Who's there?" And it's a gravelly, comforting voice, and Ciel turns with tears in his eyes to dear old Tanaka.

"Tanaka! Help!"

"You should not have come here!" he turns abruptly. "Please escape, Ciel sir… It's too risky for you…" Blood splutters from his mouth and Ciel backs away, about to run, and then- -

* * *

It's a counter symbol of the New World that is branded onto Ciel's lithe body. The mark of the noble beast, as they call it. He finds himself dirty and tired, and wants desperately to wake up and go home.

And when Ciel succumbs to the tears, he finds both his body and his mind is shackles, and it's a desperate sort of loneliness that clings to his heart, and it's up until the point that he sees the knife being drawn and aimed that Ciel clings to the idea that someone is there, someone will save him, God will find a way –

"There's no such thing as God." He whispers to himself, and in that instant he is right. There is no God to govern his soul. And surprisingly it's this doubt that gives him the chance to escape, for the New World believes the Master to be God and this blasphemy is unruly – the knife quivers for a moment in the air, and Ciel pushes himself from the table and staggers blindly through a squealing crowd. In a split second he chooses right, and they choose left, and he collapses in the bushes.

And the only though that pervades his mind right then and there is revenge and how to get it.

You see, dear reader, Ciel is no longer a child.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And they meet

Chapter 16

It's been three years since Dagger vowed to never speak to him again, and in that time, Sebastian's vision of the unusual child increased. Often, they were terribly vague and slipped so quickly through his mind that Sebastian wondered if what he saw was something conjured from imagination or memory. It seemed for a long while that the first image of that blue-eyed boy was a singularity, though Sebastian soon realised that that was what set everything into motion.

Sebastian became blatantly aware of his will to live, to  _corrupt_  this fair angel. And through this desire, Sebastian found how to kill better, quicker, professionally. Yes, dear reader, Sebastian Michaelis was an expert at killing. As it turns out, there does so happen to be the perfect crime. Sebastian was close to finding it.

Sebastian is now twenty years old. Beast, also, tends to avoid him, for mostly the same reasons as Dagger. She talks to Sebastian only when required and Dagger has fallen to relaying information to Sebastian through either her or Emily, one of Snake's serpents, who appears to take quite a liking to Black. Sebastian does not mind.

Three years ago Sebastian lay with Beast in the least romantic of ways. Sebastian's style of murder exceeded the others. The Circus had some information that Black did not, and it could only be Beast, who Sebastian identified needed that comfort, who would possibly tell him. And tell him she did, oh yes, and cried she did, oh yes, when she understood she was no longer of use to him. Terrible it was that Joker believed keeping information from Black would be the best way to go about a murder.

Perhaps that's why Sebastian was no closer to friendship now then thirteen years ago. Admittedly, Sebastian removes targets fairly quickly, which leaves nothing for the Circus, though he believes doing so will train them to be better than they are. They do not see this side of things. It appears to be only Wendy and Joker who speak to Black on a personal level at all.

Sebastian really does not mind. He's more concerned with the boy in his mind and his dreams and every breath he dares to breathe.

So when Sebastian sees the child in his eyes, not his mind, he stands still for a very long time as the boy passes him by. Sebastian's standing in the garden at the far end of the grounds, clutching a book at his side. He was returning to Baron to see if anything needed to be done. Though now…

The boy is close to adolescence; he can only see his profile, but he is certain. This is the boy.

The killer's lips are dry, throat is scorched, and his heart, oh, faster, ever faster. This child is the picture of innocence on the edge. He sees it in the way he walks, not quite a child, not quite a man, and wonders what has made him this way. His hair is a layer of supple ebony feathers that flies at the touch of the wind, and Sebastian finds himself frowning.

No, no…he much prefers the image of this child covered in blood, and steps closer, head slightly tilted, face set in stone. The child is walking with such determination, eyes set forward and hands in fists at his sides that Sebastian draws away for a second to observe him. He wonders what the child is doing here, in this place, this impure, brittle place that will taint the child before Sebastian will be able to.

And this makes our killer reach out to the child, who in turn spins to face him. The two's eyes lock, and both had shivers down their spine. Each knew who the others was, but for different reasons.

Sebastian's visions had haunted him for years of the boy who was now before him. But Ciel had heard around of a man in black who had the power of death at his hand. And Ciel needed someone dead.

Which is why when the two were facing each other, eyes locked on the other, both Ciel and Sebastian could not help but smile at the other. And as soon as this strange deed was done, both Ciel and Sebastian frowned at themselves.

Sebastian turned, then, away from the boy, plagued with this foreign emotion, and it was one single word partnered with one single gesture that made him stop.

Ciel's hand darted out, latching on to the man's arm. His small mouth opened, voice wavering, as a single word popped from his mouth.

"Wait."


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The contract is formed

Chapter 17

There really isn't much difference between humans and demons. And perhaps he had learnt this from himself, rather than observing those around him, for those around him were blatantly unaware of the existence of those creatures, or at least their true purpose on Earth. What he had discovered was that demons were not necessarily the scaly-skinned, horned beings of darkness that came to mind as soon as the word was mentioned, but rather, the people of this Earth that lacked a certain characteristic that others obtained. To be a demon was to lack the very thing that made one human.

The absence of one's conscious did not exactly result in the absence of one's soul. In order for one's soul to be absent, one must first believe such a thing existed. And Ciel did not.

The child could not consider himself a demon, of his own definition, as his conscious remained very much intact. Indeed, it was his conscious, his desire to purge wrong from right, that which had fuelled his every action over the last few years.

Ciel was now thirteen.

It was his consciousness that had brought him to where he was today. It was the same thing that shivered silently in the centre of his heart, waiting in anticipation for the words that would fire at the thing in front of him.

And Ciel trembled.

For before him was something carved from the shadows, something deathly dangerous, something- and it was here, on this very thought, that he shuddered- something that could possibly meet his objective.

Here was something that could kill so very brutally, and not feel but a thing.

An excited, dagger of a smile passed across his lips. Oh, yes, what a thing.

Ciel bit his tongue. Some _one_ , he scolded himself. According to his resources, the being before him did not appreciate being identified as a beast.  _Though it is more than that,_ Ciel thought, watching the man's eyes,  _it is almost as if he finds the term offensive- but not to himself, no, rather to thing he is being compared with._

"Do excuse me, but if you would like to observe me in silence, rather than by conversing, it might have to wait."

Ciel was rather taken aback. He had heard the bite in his voice, but the eloquent way the man had spoken, as if to not offend, only to slightly hasten...Well, it was rather amusing.

The words that came next, the confrontation that had not been analysed, made Ciel very much apparent- something he would rather not be. Indeed, he had promised himself to remain low, to keep his intentions very much to himself;  _do not excite a killer with the prospect of death_.

"Would you consider yourself to be wrong?"

Introspective of psychopathy; considering a good killer would often fall into this category, of the inability to form human attachment, and anomalous lack of empathy, any such personal question would only form an abnormal attachment to the asker.

This placed Ciel in a difficult situation, considering his own requirements of laying low.

The man before him paused, generally interested. "Would you care to explain your question? I'm afraid without fully understanding it my answer won't be properly satisfactory."

 _Would you care? Properly satisfactory?_  Odd expressions for one so detached from the human world, caught somewhere between what is living and what is dead. Witty, articulate, charming – this man was conceited in a pure sort of way. Ciel noticed the eagerness of the man to pull away from the boy, and so he dropped the man's wrist and the pair relaxed.

"I mean, would you consider yourself, in comparison to people outside of this organisation, to pertain ideologies and values that are considered 'wrong' in everyday society?"

"Such as?"

Ciel thought for a moment. "If I were to propose something – something that needed to be done – would you do it?"

Sebastian said nothing, eager to know what this proposition was.

Ciel spoke slowly. "Could you kill for me?"

"For you?"

Ciel held out his left hand, and tilted it to the side. The sapphire ring glinted in the light. Sebastian tilted his head. "A long story", said Ciel, "Requires tea."

* * *

The pair had retreated to a room within the building. It was separate from the main building, where Sebastian took his classes, or where the dorms were located. It was fairly small and had been built many years before, but it was a quiet place where files of cases, both current and terminated, were stored, along with many other things, allowing Ciel to pick from a selection of teas.

Sebastian poured the tea quietly and quickly, glancing to and from the tea to the fair child before him.

And when the man sat down, there was quietness about them as they sipped their drink. Ciel noticed, rather quickly, that this quietness was not at all demanding, nor awkward. It was comforting, and he shook off this feeling.

Ciel described the events that had occurred of the course of the years. He ended it rather abruptly, and looked to Sebastian with a queer look in his eye. "There's a problem, however." He paused, sipping his tea. "I do believe my servants are unaware of my existence. I myself am unsure of whether they live or die. I do not intend to return to them until this deed had been accomplished. I am, however, prepared never to return again."

Sebastian sat back in his chair. "Go on."

"Once something is truly lost, it can never be returned."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

"Do not think that by doing this I will ever be able to return to how my life was." He gave a short, shrill, chuckle. "Not that a think you would care, Sebastian."

The man in question lifted his head, and stared blankly into the boy's eyes, resisting the urge to tell him he knew exactly who he was.

"I've heard all about you."

"I, too, know who you are."

Ciel drew back. Sebastian, regretting this statement, pointed to the jewel on Ciel's thumb. The boy's right hand closed around the jewel protectively.

"I am locked out of my accounts. My father's estate has been burnt to crisp, and so I have nothing to offer in return."

Sebastian nodded once.

Ciel again sipped his tea. "Have you ever heard of the Faustian contract?"

Sebastian paused.

"There are many tales from the Old Religion, of which, you know, I am familiar, that tell of some foolhardy venturer offering their soul to a demon in exchange of heinous favours."

"A deal with the Devil?"

"If that's how you prefer it." He took another sip of tea, placing the porcelain on the table in front of him. "Some of my resources refer to you as just that. A demon. They describe your skills and your demeanour to be of that a fiend from hell."

Sebastian could not supress a chuckle. "Oh, my."

"Here is a proposition: Upon the completion of my task for you, you get me."

Sebastian pursed his lips.

"What I mean to say, is that you can hurt me. With anything. Cut me, burn me, with words or with fists. Hurt me until I die."

Sebastian paused.

"An adventure is beginning, Ciel, and the contract that inaugurates it is signed in blood."

"I'm well aware of that."

A pause.

"Then, all is fine, dear Ciel. I accept your terms. You are, however, forgetting one thing. Whom do you want to be eradicated from the face of the earth?"

"Ah, of course", said Ciel, "This is one of the reasons I chose you, apart from your skills, of course." He pulled a file from his jacket and laid it on the table. "A band of murderers, working for the New World and for the Master... I was much younger when my parents were killed, but I remember seeing one of them that had climbed out of the window after they'd set the place on fire. They were children, Sebastian, sent to do the dirty work. I believe they call themselves…the Noah's Ark Circus."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Sebastian stuttered something incoherent; Ciel took this mumbling to be a final agreement to the terms and conditions he had presented.

"I thought we might begin with severing their link to the Master. I don't have much information; this organisation is rather difficult to infiltrate…" He rummaged around in his belongings whilst Sebastian stared straight into space.

"Noah's Ark…" Sebastian looked down to his hands, wringing them, "Are you sure?"

Ciel's head shot up. "I spent years looking for my parent's murderers, and you're asking me if I am sure?"

Sebastian smiled slowly. "Alright, then. I have heard of them."

"Heard of them?"

"Yes. I work with them."

Ciel looked at the man with disgust, and was about to shoot out of his chair when Sebastian held up a hand, "I came here when I was much younger. They were here also. In my opinion, they had committed several murders before I joined…" He trailed off. Ciel relaxed somewhat.

"Continue."

"…That must be why they're all so close. They weren't very coordinated as a group back then, though – I think the fire that consumed your home was simply a last resort. When I was sent out with them for our first official assassination – or is at appears,  _my_  first – they were terribly awkward about how they did it, and I set the place on fire to consume the terribleness of it."

"Are you suggesting that this group of children was recruited by the Master, and they have hidden such deeds from this order in order to…? It's likely they would not be punished. They are assassins after all."

"Yes…that does seem rather queer." Sebastian paused; Ciel fumbled with his collection of notes. "See, this order is of no religion. Perhaps…" He paused again. "They must have someone within the order that transfers information to the Master…"

Ciel looked up, and reached for the file he had momentarily put down. "Do you know of any regulation flow of people going in and out of the order for days at a time?"

Sebastian paused. "Other than long missions, no."

Ciel slumped in his chair, whilst Sebastian remained very much upright.

"In that case", Ciel folded one leg over the other, "We must be prepared to evade the Master often. If we are destroying the Master's recruits, he will surely know about it instantly, considering we cannot pinpoint the intermediary…" He mumbled something else, and reached for his tea, sipping it quietly and flicking through the collection of papers in his hand.

"Unless…" It was Sebastian who spoke. His brow furrowed somewhat, and he rose fingers to his chin. "There may be someone I know of who might be of importance to this task."

"Oh?"

"Indeed", Sebastian took the empty tea cups away, and crumbed plates, and washed them quickly and silently as Ciel lazily slumped in his chair.  _What a precious boy,_  Sebastian thought, watching the child with his air of superiority. Replacing the cups, placing a few things in his pocket, and removing any evidence of their stay, Sebastian bade Ciel rise with a swoop of his hand, and picked the boy from the ground – there were a series of complaints as he did so – and collected for the child his things before leaving the room.

"Now, Young Master…"

"Young Master?" Ciel asked.

"Well, you are the Earl Phantomhive, are you not? Despite the tragedy of your family, you cannot deny who you are. Otherwise, what is the point to your existence?"

Ciel looked away, carefully bringing his hand from around Sebastian's neck to gently brush his fair ring.

"Indeed."

"Forgive me if I struck a nerve, Young Master."

"Put me down." He ordered coolly as Sebastian came to one of the entrances to the organisation. He complied quickly, lowering his arms so the child could clamber out, brushing himself off as if Sebastian was a dirty inferior.

"This way, Young Master", Sebastian opened and held the door for the boy, who slipped the papers he had been holding into his bag, slung on Sebastian's shoulder. The boy allowed for Sebastian to lead them into the darkened corridors. The place was deathly silent, but Sebastian seemed to not mind the quiet and seemed very much used to silence that had sunk deep into the walls.

"Young Master?"

"Yes, Sebastian?"

"Forgive me if I am out of place, but I could not help my curiosity towards the eye patch on your right eye."

Ciel's hand crept to the thing slowly, meeting it slowly and then drawing his hand away as if it had met blood.

"Not at all, Sebastian, I had simply forgotten I was wearing it."

Sebastian had stopped and turned in some crevice of a hallway; the boy looked up at him, scowling.

"They say the eyes are the window to the soul. I lost all innocence that day, years ago. My soul is tainted. I shall lock that pain within me, Sebastian, so it festers and brews the hate that leads my existence."

Sebastian looked at the child for a very long time, and then found himself smiling for a very long time.

"Such a small Young Master… but entirely different to what I would have expected."

Ciel shot his eyes upward, mouth pursed. "Expected?"

"Oh yes, Young Master. Yes indeed." He smiled cruelly at the child and then bid him continue, for they were nearly there.

_Forsake all in the future, sacrifice your dreams…your soul is stained with a deep despair, but even that does not hinder you from moving forward. You are eluding the past, to gain your goal, and all the while who have not denied your nobility. You haven't denied what you are. Yes, dear Ciel. When you are stained with the bloodshed of our enemies…that is the person I want to devour._

Sebastian allowed Ciel to overtake him in his stride, leading the boy from behind with simple, small whispers. And finally when Sebastian asked Ciel to stop, there was a chill in the air, and an eerie quietness that unsettled the small child.

Sebastian's hand quivered for a second, before he drew his hand away. Instead of lightly rapping on the door, he carefully opened the handle, pushing it forward with his left hand, and entering the darkened room with careful curiosity.

"I do wonder", Sebastian murmured, "If he's in…"

Ciel, frowning, uncrossed his arms and walked across the floor. The light clopping of his heeled shoes on the cold, stony floor echoed slightly around the room. Sebastian walked toward a familiar table, and picked up a series of papers scattered across the desk, holding them firmly in his left hand.

"Had you still been in that monastery, Sebastian, they would have belittled you for that."

Ciel swung around, eyes large and disordered.

"Good Doctor", Sebastian turned to face the man, hidden in the shadows, quickly swapped the papers from his left hand to his right. "You should by now that such as place as the monastery could not change the instincts of the likes of me*."

"Hmph." The Doctor uncrossed his arms, and crossed the floor to the small boy. "It's very rare that anyone would be kind enough to bring me a live subject."

"I don't recommend that, good Doctor." Sebastian swung and was instantly at Ciel's side. "If you touch him, I might have to hurt you."

"Well, you always were a fan of torture."

Ciel's frown deepened. "Sebastian. Stop fooling around."

A dagger of a smile skipped merrily across the man's lips. "Yes, my lord."

His hand was in and out of his left breast pocket in an instant. Sebastian's hand dashed out to the Doctor's neck. Swinging the body around, the cold edge of three silver butterknives were held against the man's pulsing throat.

He chuckled frightfully. "And what sort of damage could that do? Sebastian?" The man in question pressed the silver closer to his skin.

"Oh, you'd be surprised."

The Doctor laughed again, "S-Sebastian…what is the meaning of this? Who is that child?"

"I am the Earl Phantomhive, and you will tell me everything I need to know…" And Ciel flicked his wrist in such a carefree manner that Doctor had little time to notice before Sebastian had him on the floor, pinned down by a certain three knives.

"Do not be so quick to judge the deadliness of anything, dear Doctor."

The Doctor smiled a nervous sort of smile. "So you're the Earl? There are many questioning your whereabouts… particularly…The Master…"

It was very quiet for a moment, before Ciel, enraged, came forward. "Don't patronise me! Sebastian! Make him talk!"

"Of course, my Lord."

Sebastian plucked a single knife from the Doctor's clothes, and smiled. And, really, that was all it took, for in moments, the Doctor was spluttering some incoherent jabber about bodies, and death, and the Undertaker! Ask the Undertaker!

He was laughing again. "Y-You remember, don't you Sebastian? Those fi-figures! They're the ones you want…!"

Sebastian smiled again. "Why, thank you Doctor." He lent down and picked the other two knives from the ground, and the Doctor skittered up.

"Kill him", said Ciel, "He knows what we intended. Therefore, he works for the Master…and is our enemy."

And Sebastian smiled once again.

* * *

"You do realise, Young Master, I will not question your orders. You do not have to explain yourself to me."

Ciel looked over the lifeless body once more. "Of course."

"Ohoho…filthy child, filthy man…"

Ciel and Sebastian turned to face the man behind them.

"…Same soul."

And from behind the Undertaker, whose smile chilled Ciel to the bone, came two, very familiar figures, carrying a very familiar box.

Ciel turned to Sebastian, and Sebastian nodded once.

"Sebastian, this is an order. Kill them all."

A smile carved from bone, and tinted with a crimson that turns to black over time… Yes, one of those smiles…

"Yes, my Lord."

* * *

* - left handedness was considered sinful


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"This is an order." Ciel said. "Kill them all."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Oho", chuckled the Undertaker, darting out of the way as Sebastian flew forward. Butter knives whistled past his nose and to the robes of one of the figures. The rip was down the middle. A hand dropped from the box, and the thing clattered to the ground.

He lacked a weapon. The Undertaker, with his broad grin, and hands held in front of his obscured face, lacked a weapon.

Sebastian came in as the Undertaker thrust his fist out, diving under that, knife at the neck. He had to force the thing to the Undertaker's throat, but couldn't cut very deeply; the man pulled away, spluttering, and coughing, and chuckling,  _still chuckling._ He sidestepped out of the way as one of the cloaked figures took his place, kicking Sebastian's leg. The other came around behind him, wrapping strong arms around Sebastian's frame. A fist flew to his jaw.

Sebastian launched from his left leg, kicking and swinging around to his right so he faced the other figure. Grabbing the sides of the cloaked figure, he forced their legs over his shoulder, swinging as they fell to ground.

The hood slipped off as the figure fell, and the man rose with a disgusted grimace.

"You've seen my face."

"Indeed I have."

"I'm afraid you'll have to die."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

A snort, and a chuckle – a very  _female_ chuckle – came from the other cloaked figure, who removed her hood and moved toward her partner.

Sebastian's brow furrowed.

Surely they must be twins, he thought, looking at them. Both had silver-grey hair, deep jewelled eyes. Both were smiling, and they were so in tune with one another it was uncanny…

"You work for the Master, I presume?" Sebastian asked.

They said nothing, but smiled.

Ciel crossed his arms slowly, and sighed. He turned his head away from the scene.

Sebastian stiffened. He was clearly boring the child.

The male figure looked from the boy to Sebastian and chuckled darkly. "You've always been an intriguing creature Sebastian", a gloved hand reached for Sebastian's face, but not quickly enough, obviously – the knife stuck itself into the small bones of the man's hand; the blood spilled and blossomed over the floor and the inhuman screech made Ciel cover his ears. Thus, naturally, Sebastian removed the knife from the man's hand and reached into his mouth – the member was slippery and rather disgusting, but Sebastian had experience in this area and it slipped out over his hand and splattered on the floor.

"Do be quiet", he murmured – he remembered them now, his escorts, and was rather uncertain of himself and that they were working for the Master made him more uncomfortable. He slit the man's throat effortlessly and, grabbing the cloth of the woman's cloak, slammed her hard into the wall – her head lolled back and he was rather disappointed by her death, and so slit her throat to be certain.

He dropped the knife and, grimacing, looked to his dirtied clothes. He wiped his hands on them and looked to Ciel, who was looking slightly disgruntled.

"You took your time."

"Sorry, my Lord", he smiled, bowing. "Do forgive me, but are you wishing to know what is inside this box?"

"Open it."

"Yes, my Lord", Sebastian reached down to the small iron box and brought it to his Master's eye level.

He undid the clasp with caution, drawing it away from his Lord's face ever so slightly and slowly opened the lid. He peered in and when he was certain whatever was inside would not harm his young Master, swung the box open.

The pair frowned and the box's contents.

"Don't touch it, Sebastian. Put it down."

Sebastian obeyed and lowered the box to the floor. He stood up and stepped backwards; Ciel scowled and looked around.

"What… Could it be for?"

"More importantly, Young Master, did you see where the Undertaker got to?"

"He ran the moment you got his throat. He probably won't get far."

"Would you like me to go after him, Young Master?"

"No!" Ciel turned to Sebastian. "This is an order! I am never to be left without protection."

Sebastian smiled. "But of course!"

Upon entering the room the figures had emerged from, Sebastian was unsurprised to find the room filled with an uncertain amount of fresh corpses.

"Well, well." Sebastian murmured. Ciel turned and returned to the box.

"What…parts are they?" He asked curiously.

Sebastian peered over his shoulder and smiled. He knew such things well. "A liver, two kidneys and what appears to be a fraction of a heart."

"A fraction?"

"Part of the right auricle and a valve…" He paused, recalling, and continued, "the tricuspid valve."

"How queer." Ciel rocked back on his heels. "How queer indeed."

Yawning, the boy kicked the box shut and was about to leave through the door the Undertaker had taken when Sebastian called out to him.

"You're tired." The man looked curiously at the boy's frame. He could identify the slouching shoulders and sleep like gaze.

"They're all here, aren't they? Are you suggesting I spend a night in here, with them?" Ciel said, rather disgusted by the thought. How could one expect a Lord to spend a night with murderers, let alone those who destroyed his young life?

There was a tight silence between them.

"In reality, you two created quite the ruckus."

Sebastian swung around to find Baron leaning against the door. "Have you suddenly decided to betray the organisation that raised you?"

"Not this organisation, Baron. Let's say I have taken an interest in political affairs of the time. It's the Master I am interested in."

"Is that so?" He chuckled. "And the rest of the Circus, no doubt?"

"Oh, yes."

Baron peered around Sebastian's form. "Look at how little blood is split." He chuckled. "Your victims seemed to have even fallen in an elegant position. Aren't I proud?"

Ciel lowered his gaze.

Baron chuckled. "They abandoned you once more, Sebastian. I'm sure you're feeling rather left out at this stage. Though, you never were one for company." He paused. "Which begs the question…who is your company?"

Ciel shot his eyes to the man before him. "I am Earl Ciel Phantomhive, son of Vincent Phantomhive the director and executor of the Funtom Project."

"The Funtom Project? Why, I haven't heard such a name in so long." He smiled. "And you're proud of that project despite its failure?"

"I'm proud of my father's pride and bravery and I intend to honour that."

Another smile. Sebastian remained silent.

"Would you care to stay the night?"

* * *

William T. Spears stepped forth into the room and lent down beside the Master's side.

"I would like to confirm the contract of Sebastian Michaelis to Ciel Phantomhive."

"It was expected. Thank you, William."

"It was my pleasure, Master. On another note, you have a visitor."

"A visitor?"

"A message."

"Send him in."

William rose and beckoned toward the man at the door. His eerie smile and iridescent orbs unnerved the Shinigami, but the Master trusted him, and therefore Will knew to suspect every inch of him.

"Ohohoho~ Forgive the intrusion, Master."

"Oh! Undertaker! I hope you come with the finest of laughs for me this day!"

"Forgive me, my Master, but I am afraid I come bearing the saddest of tears."

"Is that so? And who is to blame for these tears?"

The Undertaker's smiled faded ever so slightly.

"Sebastian Michaelis."

* * *

"There is someone out there." Sebastian murmured to the boy who sat by the fire.

"Really? How can you tell?"

"Call it intuition, if you will. If the hunter can hunt, surely he would know what it felt like to be hunted, no?"

Ciel yawned. "I suppose…."

Sebastian drew the blinds and took a seat across from the boy. They had been playing chess for the past few hours. Sebastian took Ciel's knight with his pawn, and chuckled. Ciel opened one eye, and smiled back. He leaned forward and took the pawn with simple ease, placing Sebastian into check. Sebastian reached to move his king before he realised –

"Checkmate."

In the end, it was unsurprising. The boy had said he'd never lost a game in his life; though Sebastian was certain he had often won out of pity, he was sorely mistaken.

He chuckled loudly and relaxed into his chair.

And with that the conversation stopped and Ciel removed his eyepatch, hand clasping protectively over his father's ring. It wasn't long before he fell asleep.

Sebastian smiled. He rose from the chair slowly, unclasping Ciel's shoes and removing small stockings, undoing the ribbon around his neck and the first buttons of his shirt. He daren't go any further in case the boy disapproved. Removing the small body from the chair, Sebastian walked to the bed and laid him under the covers.

Returning to his seat near the fire, Sebastian turned once more towards the sleeping boy.

"Goodnight, Young Master."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 19

"This is an order." Ciel said. "Kill them all."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Oho", chuckled the Undertaker, darting out of the way as Sebastian flew forward. Butter knives whistled past his nose and to the robes of one of the figures. The rip was down the middle. A hand dropped from the box, and the thing clattered to the ground.

He lacked a weapon. The Undertaker, with his broad grin, and hands held in front of his obscured face, lacked a weapon.

Sebastian came in as the Undertaker thrust his fist out, diving under that, knife at the neck. He had to force the thing to the Undertaker's throat, but couldn't cut very deeply; the man pulled away, spluttering, and coughing, and chuckling,  _still chuckling._ He sidestepped out of the way as one of the cloaked figures took his place, kicking Sebastian's leg. The other came around behind him, wrapping strong arms around Sebastian's frame. A fist flew to his jaw.

Sebastian launched from his left leg, kicking and swinging around to his right so he faced the other figure. Grabbing the sides of the cloaked figure, he forced their legs over his shoulder, swinging as they fell to ground.

The hood slipped off as the figure fell, and the man rose with a disgusted grimace.

"You've seen my face."

"Indeed I have."

"I'm afraid you'll have to die."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

A snort, and a chuckle – a very  _female_ chuckle – came from the other cloaked figure, who removed her hood and moved toward her partner.

Sebastian's brow furrowed.

Surely they must be twins, he thought, looking at them. Both had silver-grey hair, deep jewelled eyes. Both were smiling, and they were so in tune with one another it was uncanny…

"You work for the Master, I presume?" Sebastian asked.

They said nothing, but smiled.

Ciel crossed his arms slowly, and sighed. He turned his head away from the scene.

Sebastian stiffened. He was clearly boring the child.

The male figure looked from the boy to Sebastian and chuckled darkly. "You've always been an intriguing creature Sebastian", a gloved hand reached for Sebastian's face, but not quickly enough, obviously – the knife stuck itself into the small bones of the man's hand; the blood spilled and blossomed over the floor and the inhuman screech made Ciel cover his ears. Thus, naturally, Sebastian removed the knife from the man's hand and reached into his mouth – the member was slippery and rather disgusting, but Sebastian had experience in this area and it slipped out over his hand and splattered on the floor.

"Do be quiet", he murmured – he remembered them now, his escorts, and was rather uncertain of himself and that they were working for the Master made him more uncomfortable. He slit the man's throat effortlessly and, grabbing the cloth of the woman's cloak, slammed her hard into the wall – her head lolled back and he was rather disappointed by her death, and so slit her throat to be certain.

He dropped the knife and, grimacing, looked to his dirtied clothes. He wiped his hands on them and looked to Ciel, who was looking slightly disgruntled.

"You took your time."

"Sorry, my Lord", he smiled, bowing. "Do forgive me, but are you wishing to know what is inside this box?"

"Open it."

"Yes, my Lord", Sebastian reached down to the small iron box and brought it to his Master's eye level.

He undid the clasp with caution, drawing it away from his Lord's face ever so slightly and slowly opened the lid. He peered in and when he was certain whatever was inside would not harm his young Master, swung the box open.

The pair frowned and the box's contents.

"Don't touch it, Sebastian. Put it down."

Sebastian obeyed and lowered the box to the floor. He stood up and stepped backwards; Ciel scowled and looked around.

"What… Could it be for?"

"More importantly, Young Master, did you see where the Undertaker got to?"

"He ran the moment you got his throat. He probably won't get far."

"Would you like me to go after him, Young Master?"

"No!" Ciel turned to Sebastian. "This is an order! I am never to be left without protection."

Sebastian smiled. "But of course!"

Upon entering the room the figures had emerged from, Sebastian was unsurprised to find the room filled with an uncertain amount of fresh corpses.

"Well, well." Sebastian murmured. Ciel turned and returned to the box.

"What…parts are they?" He asked curiously.

Sebastian peered over his shoulder and smiled. He knew such things well. "A liver, two kidneys and what appears to be a fraction of a heart."

"A fraction?"

"Part of the right auricle and a valve…" He paused, recalling, and continued, "the tricuspid valve."

"How queer." Ciel rocked back on his heels. "How queer indeed."

Yawning, the boy kicked the box shut and was about to leave through the door the Undertaker had taken when Sebastian called out to him.

"You're tired." The man looked curiously at the boy's frame. He could identify the slouching shoulders and sleep like gaze.

"They're all here, aren't they? Are you suggesting I spend a night in here, with them?" Ciel said, rather disgusted by the thought. How could one expect a Lord to spend a night with murderers, let alone those who destroyed his young life?

There was a tight silence between them.

"In reality, you two created quite the ruckus."

Sebastian swung around to find Baron leaning against the door. "Have you suddenly decided to betray the organisation that raised you?"

"Not this organisation, Baron. Let's say I have taken an interest in political affairs of the time. It's the Master I am interested in."

"Is that so?" He chuckled. "And the rest of the Circus, no doubt?"

"Oh, yes."

Baron peered around Sebastian's form. "Look at how little blood is split." He chuckled. "Your victims seemed to have even fallen in an elegant position. Aren't I proud?"

Ciel lowered his gaze.

Baron chuckled. "They abandoned you once more, Sebastian. I'm sure you're feeling rather left out at this stage. Though, you never were one for company." He paused. "Which begs the question…who is your company?"

Ciel shot his eyes to the man before him. "I am Earl Ciel Phantomhive, son of Vincent Phantomhive the director and executor of the Funtom Project."

"The Funtom Project? Why, I haven't heard such a name in so long." He smiled. "And you're proud of that project despite its failure?"

"I'm proud of my father's pride and bravery and I intend to honour that."

Another smile. Sebastian remained silent.

"Would you care to stay the night?"

* * *

William T. Spears stepped forth into the room and lent down beside the Master's side.

"I would like to confirm the contract of Sebastian Michaelis to Ciel Phantomhive."

"It was expected. Thank you, William."

"It was my pleasure, Master. On another note, you have a visitor."

"A visitor?"

"A message."

"Send him in."

William rose and beckoned toward the man at the door. His eerie smile and iridescent orbs unnerved the Shinigami, but the Master trusted him, and therefore Will knew to suspect every inch of him.

"Ohohoho~ Forgive the intrusion, Master."

"Oh! Undertaker! I hope you come with the finest of laughs for me this day!"

"Forgive me, my Master, but I am afraid I come bearing the saddest of tears."

"Is that so? And who is to blame for these tears?"

The Undertaker's smiled faded ever so slightly.

"Sebastian Michaelis."

* * *

"There is someone out there." Sebastian murmured to the boy who sat by the fire.

"Really? How can you tell?"

"Call it intuition, if you will. If the hunter can hunt, surely he would know what it felt like to be hunted, no?"

Ciel yawned. "I suppose…."

Sebastian drew the blinds and took a seat across from the boy. They had been playing chess for the past few hours. Sebastian took Ciel's knight with his pawn, and chuckled. Ciel opened one eye, and smiled back. He leaned forward and took the pawn with simple ease, placing Sebastian into check. Sebastian reached to move his king before he realised –

"Checkmate."

In the end, it was unsurprising. The boy had said he'd never lost a game in his life; though Sebastian was certain he had often won out of pity, he was sorely mistaken.

He chuckled loudly and relaxed into his chair.

And with that the conversation stopped and Ciel removed his eyepatch, hand clasping protectively over his father's ring. It wasn't long before he fell asleep.

Sebastian smiled. He rose from the chair slowly, unclasping Ciel's shoes and removing small stockings, undoing the ribbon around his neck and the first buttons of his shirt. He daren't go any further in case the boy disapproved. Removing the small body from the chair, Sebastian walked to the bed and laid him under the covers.

Returning to his seat near the fire, Sebastian turned once more towards the sleeping boy.

"Goodnight, Young Master."


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Ciel collected himself and turned away, tugging impatiently at the ribbon around his neck and quickly tying it into a bow. He watched as Sebastian passed him and he scowled slowly at the way the man was dressed. The assassin turned and caught his eye and Ciel raised his head haughtily and smiled sheepishly.

"You look disgusting."

Sebastian swung down, staring the boy down, shifting uncomfortably in the garment. "What would you have me wear?"

Ciel chuckled, almost tempted to say 'nothing' just to see the man's response. Instead, he looked down at his own clothes and said, "Perhaps something more fitting for a companion of an Earl?"

Sebastian chuckled, "I thought you didn't want anyone recognising you. And with the work we are doing, there really is no point in dressing so garishly. Indeed, why are you wearing that?"

Ciel looked down at his own clothes and frowned. He'd stashed the garment away for special occasions, though indeed tramping around with an assassin had not been what he had in mind. The garment remained a single reminder of his life when luxury was like air. It was both sickening and lovely to wear it.

"Don't be sardonic." Ciel murmured, quickly undoing the bow around his neck.

"An order?" Sebastian murmured, casually noting the sudden change in the air around his young master; the saunter and stiffness of the boy's limbs.

"Of course."

With that, Sebastian wandered to the child and helped him change. They replace the lavish overcoat with a simple brown waistcoat Sebastian found stashed at the back of the wardrobe and a particularly grotty hat that reduces the softness of Ciel's fine features and makes him seem like any other child.

But Sebastian notes well that this is not the case.

The boy passes him the garment and it is folded quickly with a few other essentials into a tiny, sickly brown suitcase. Sebastian quickly takes the long overcoat from his chair and puts it on, guiding the small child over the threshold and into the centre of the building. They passed Baron in the hallway and Sebastian thanked him for the room. He did not intend to thank the man for anything else but he noted the way he looked at him and then towards Ciel who was distracted by the amount of people passing him by.

"I've been waiting for you to kill them since the day you walked into this place."

"You don't like them?" Sebastian asks curiously, watching Ciel with a certain interest.

"I don't 'like' anything in the sense you are implying. I'm awfully laid back when it comes down to it, Sebastian. Just back sure you kill them well and", he chuckled, "don't get distracted."

He said the last line with such poise and certainty that Sebastian bit his lips in distaste and smiled it off, clutching Ciel's soldier with meaning and purpose and guided him away from the man who had taught him everything he knew.

"Dirty bastard", Sebastian murmured, removing his hand from the boy who gave him and confused and irritated glance. Sebastian greeted the look with a chuckle, farewelling the man who had been close to being of some sentimental value to the murderer.

* * *

"William?" The body jerked awake.

William paused and breathed out, "Yes, Master?"

"You woke me."

"I apologise."

There was a quiet few moments where the body rustled about in the dark pushing itself upwards into a sitting position. The smell was worse this evening, Will noted, and the groans from the body below said the parts were not working. Initially, Will had been so disgusted he was certain he couldn't do the job. He was willing to give up generations of work because of the scent of rotting flesh. Now it was simply routine, and William sighed, picking up the notepad and noting down that once again another of the Undertaker's parts had not done what the Master wanted.

William knew, however, that none ever would. The Master was completely and utterly insane, but any hint towards sanity and William would cease to exist, years of work cease to exist and quite possibly the Shinigami could be compromised.

"Are you tired, William?"

William chuckled, "Always am, dear Master."

"Then rest."

The notion of rest was so surprising that William responded with a bland and blunt, "What?", without suffix or any concept of politeness. The Master, however, did not seem to mind.

How queer, Will thought, how queer for such a thing to be said, here and now.

"I grant you leave."

William stared for a second before bowing low. A small smile crept upon his lips. What perfect, impeccable timing.

"Yes, my Master."

* * *

"I can simply sense it, my Lord, it isn't a feeling to be described."

Ciel sighed in response, walking along the open path. On either side of the gravely stream was thick layers of long luscious grass, still wet with morning dew.

"Yet you cannot know for sure that someone is watching us."

Sebastian smiled. "Yet under the circumstances it is not a possibility to be ruled out."

Ciel slows his pace and turns to find Sebastian staring off into the darkness of the forest, at least 100 m away. He slips his gaze down the man's neck to wear it disappears underneath the hideous garment and his eyes flicker up to the way his hair sits. Ciel bites his lips and reminds himself that he does not find Sebastian attractive. In fact, he is rather repulsed by the way the man looks at him. He knows he looks at him.

They always do.

* * *

Grell watches quietly from the shadows of the forest and sighs. He's well aware that behind him could be one of the Master's people, in fact, any movement in the darkness could be just that, but whilst his comrade works furiously to fight off the his fears, Grell brings his hand to his mouth and whistles once.

He giggles as Sebastian perks up and stares into the darkness. Essentially the man could be looking at him.

"My, my", he giggles again, "Look how handsome you've become, oh…" He smiles briefly to himself, "I'd have your children, you know, Sebby…" Grell murmurs something else, something incoherent, as his comrade lets out an exasperated sigh.

"We need to draw him over here. That spy from the Master could be watching them."

Grell chuckles, "Well, of course, they could be watching us as well", he tutted as Ciel barked an order and frowned at how Sebastian obeyed, "How disgusting. What is a beauty like Sebastian doing with the beastly child? Oh, I wish he could see what he does to do a lady like me, oh.."

The boy beside Grell bowed his head in defeat. "I suppose I'll do it myself."

"Oh, no", Grell giggles, "I'll help."

"Good", the boy mumurs, "Now think, something subtle, something.."

"Sebas-chan~" Grell screeches at the top of his lungs.

"Christ!" The boy beside him ducks down, "You foul idiot, what do you think you're doing?"

Grell watches as Sebastian grabs the child's arm and is about to run away when his shoulders slouch in some form of disgust and recognition and raises his hand up, waving slightly.

"Good God." Sebastian murmurs.

Ciel is still tense. "What? What is it? Should we run?"

"Good God", Sebastian says again, relaxing his grip on the child's slender frame. He can feel his heart racing so frightfully quick. "Are you alright?" He asks, and the boy nods.

"Who is that?"

"Grell…?"

"A friend, an enemy?"

Sebastian sucked his lower lip, frowning down at the beauty below him.

"I really have no idea."


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian's desire resembles that of Humbert Humbert

**Chapter 22**

The bounding red head escapes from the clutches of the forest. Immediately, all sense of wariness is destroyed, but none the less Sebastian shoots a hand out to Ciel's shoulder. It is shortly slapped away, with a signature scowl, and Sebastian finds himself smiling at the youth before him. The boy is so dastardly innocent.

He wishes to remedy that.

Grell greets Sebastian with his arm open and the murderer slinks out of the way, tired and bored of the man's ridiculous antics. He barely remembers him, but notices with something of approval that he does not appear to be wearing any sort of robe resembling that of the monastery.

Sebastian's look must have been quite quizzical as Grell shoots him a dazzlingly grin and chuckle. "Ah, Sebastian-" and is about to continue when his accomplice pulls the man's shoulder down. The two have words and Ciel glances hesitantly behind him to watch Sebastian's unblemished face as he attempts to decode the conversation. The boy is only somewhat comforted by his killer's lack of concern. He steps backward slowly, towards his protection.

"Sebastian-" He begins, but is cut off when Sebastian's gloved finger rests hesitantly against his lips. Ciel lets a quiet gasp escape him and he swallows slowly, stepping back once as the blush encompasses his supple porcelain skin. Thankfully, Sebastian isn't looking, and Ciel has time to recover.

No, certainly, he reminds himself, there is no attraction here.

Secretly, Sebastian smiles, for he sees the boy struggling out of the corner of his eye, but pretends not to notice, to not disrupt his young master's brittle pride, and for the second his attention is divided, Grell shoots his head back and the flames of hair follow; they are petals of fire as they land delicately on his back.

"You need", he began- he was a flamboyant tribute to the melodramatic – raising a flared hand to his chest, "To come with me, dear Sebastian", and as Ciel's mouth flew open to counter and conquer, he was met with Sebastian's hand on his shoulder and an impossible flurry from the man before him who could not possibly believe the boy before him was so rude as to interrupt a lady, for it was obvious with any who had eyes that Grell had  _not_  finished speaking.

Before Ciel had the chance to say, "I am an  _earl_ , thank you very much, my family name might thwart your very existence if you so dare to be as insolent ever again", Sebastian stepped forward, lightly pushing the young creature behind him.

"Grell-"

"OH!" Grell leaps forward, a burst of joy and red, "You remembered my name. Well, now, you're such a gentleman, such a gentleman – you make a lady like myself  _excited_  at the very thought-"

"I'm sure I do." Sebastian smiled. "I'm sure. However, Grell", the man in questioned shivered as his name fell from the lips of the killer, "I'm also sure that this is not the time, and  _certainly_  not the place to be discussing it. As much as I'd like to, I can't seem to shake the feeling that we're being watched."

"Hurry up." Ciel called behind him, limp and tired, but still so very cross

Grell peered cautiously around Sebastian's form and met the boy with jealous eyes, however, his partner pulled the man back and whispered something to Sebastian that neither Grell nor Ciel could hear. There was a series of nods and finally a broad smile from the killer, who quickly turned to scoop the child up in his arms. Of course, he was met with a disapproving grunt from the boy, but he murmured, "Hush now", and the child fell quiet with burning cheeks, and a look that spoke of trying hard to not look at all attracted to the killer. The blush was so awfully overbearing that Ciel could not overcome it to ask where they were going. But they were going, he noticed, somewhere, and as long as Sebastian thought, in some way, it would lead to the murder of a several people, Ciel was not concerned.

* * *

Ciel tries awfully hard to not slip away into the clutches of sleep, but Sebastian is lulling him unknowingly with the constant beat of his heart against the warm cavity of his chest, with the unchanging pit-pat of his movement as they walk toward their destination.

It's dark enough that Ciel can look up to Sebastian without the killer noticing him, and without Ciel's pride falling out of his mouth to soil the remains the boy. Part of him tells him that Sebastian is no different to any of the men who have come before him, no different to any of Ciel's past "lovers", though "lovers" is most definitely not the word Ciel would use to describe his dealings with those men.

He knows well the desires of those men. He's known since that first time he needed something, with only his body as payment. So part of him alerts him to the notion that Sebastian may be no different, though another suggests the subtle way Sebastian handles him is indicative of the fact that Sebastian may care. Ciel thinks this very unlikely, however, for they have not known each other for very long. He therefore wonders why it's different for him, and why he cannot help but grow attached to anyone he touches.

* * *

Sebastian notices the boy's nervous movements and dares a glance; his met with a flurry of motion and then, suddenly, the side of Ciel's face, and he smiles at the creature before him before he sighs, a proper sigh, and closes his eyes for an instant longer than normal. He really isn't sure why, in the end.

Grell seems deflated as he storms through the never ending brush. The path is obvious, but Grell is not satisfied, until they reach a shadowy form that, when his partner whispers "death" to the wind, illuminates the building with a gaslight and quickly the four are ushered inside, and the light drops out once more.

Once they are inside, Sebastian rouses the small boy in his arms and the child clambers out, brushing himself off with his hands as if the Sebastian is dirty. Sebastian smiles behind him, for he is, indeed, one of the filthiest beings alive.

Grell ducks out for a quiet moment and Sebastian and Ciel are brought into a dull room where several people sit and talk and Ciel looks up to Sebastian for explanation, and the man looks down and whispers, "I suppose you could call this the resistance."

Ciel's eyes are wide, now, and the gasp that escapes him highlights his sudden interest. "They still practice the old religion?"

Sebastian smiles in response, and Ciel is already foaming with the idea of being so much closer to the end. And for a heart wrenching second he thinks that, in the end, he'll be ok, before he sees Sebastian smile and the contract comes rushing back into his mind, and he swallows the sad as he always does and smiles back.

Grell comes bounding in from the wooden door at the back and takes his place at the opposite end of the room, waving slightly at Sebastian before bowing his head like the fellow members. The man who comes in next is unknown to Sebastian or Ciel, but, as he pushes up his glasses, introduces himself as William T. Spears, and though the name means nothing to either of the guests, he assures them he is something special.

"I work for the Master", he begins, and already Sebastian is standing with an abnormal amount of silverware in his hands, his precious young master behind him, aghast and confused.

The man smiles, and asks them to sit, and reluctantly they do, and he tells them, quickly, about the slow infiltration that took place over many generations. He then smiles.

Ciel's lips are pursed; he looks sour and unimpressed. Will leans forward and says, "But I hear you want to murder the Master?" And Ciel looks around, arms crossed, and gives a slight nod.

"I have been hired to kill him", Sebastian murmured, smiling sweetly, and Ciel grunted out, "I'll pay his dues." And for a slight second even the boy can't tell whether he's talking about the murder of the Master or the payment of the contract, and Sebastian smiles uneasily as he nods.

William sighs. "It also appears that there is an informant in amongst the assassin's order who is transmitting information to and from the order. At first, I thought it was that man who came to inform the death of two associates, but it appears I was wrong. There is another. Has been, for many a year."

"My, my, William. Such a large number of enemies, how difficult to handle all alone… shall a demon like me assist you in getting rid of them?" Sebastian smiled eagerly and Will sighed.

"You do realise your", he paused for a moment before continuing, " _employment_  as an assassin has resulted in many deaths of our people?"

Ciel's face fell and he turned away. He knew it well, but nonetheless, the only reason he had chosen Sebastian was because he had not been involved in the murder of his parents. He's awfully glad it was Sebastian, though, as much as he could never admit it to himself.

Sebastian smiles. "It was, as you say", he leans forward, "an employment opportunity." And they both know in that moment that Sebastian was only ever paid in the joy of killing.

Will sighs. "I believe you've already killed two of our main targets. They were the twins Angela and Ash, long-time associates of the Master."

Sebastian smiles, "Oh, yes."

Will nods. "Then continue on. We shan't stop you. But if you dare hurt the Master before it is time, then the New World will be stuck how it is, and we'll never progress to, well, to the old ways."

"And why", Ciel drew himself forward into the light, "might I ask, is that?"

"Well, she's dying."

Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows. "…She?"

William smiled coyly before standing. "You're welcome to stay the night, but be gone by dawn. It's much harder to get out of here in the day time without being spotted."

Shortly, the room was cleared, and Sebastian and Ciel were order out into another room. As they walked, Sebastian dared let his eyes wander to the boy in front of him. He watches the way he walks, dares a glance at the perfection of the area between his back and his thighs. For a moment he imagines touching the boy, and he smiles, imagining giving the child an airy kiss, and the blush that would follow would so outstanding. He is lost in these thoughts and then the boy turns, yelling, "Sebastian!" and the man looks up to find a cross child at the entrance to a room.

"I called you twice."

Sebastian smiles, "Forgive me, young master."

To Ciel that is satisfactory, and they are greeted by a large room with a simple wooden bed, centred. As Sebastian turned to the right he found a simple sheet and pillow laid out on the floor and is met by a chuckle from Ciel.

"Well I suppose I know where you're sleeping."

Sebastian chuckles, "Oh, yes. With you."

And as Ciel turns to protest he's met with a finger on his lips and Sebastian pushes him toward the bed, his knee parting Ciel's legs and the boy shouts for him to stop, complains that it's an order and Sebastian sits upright, blank faced and unfazed.

"Is it because I'm a killer?" He asks. He is in no way hurt by Ciel pushing him away.

"Really, Sebastian. It doesn't matter what you are, but rather who you are. And you are a murderer, so act upon that instinct. That is an order."

Sebastian is surprised. The smile that erupts on his face is not planned, and Ciel is confused by the brightness of the smile. He pushes himself up from underneath the man and back into the pillows.

"Good heavens, young Master, are you displaying weakness to me now?" Sebastian's eyebrow raises slowly and Ciel blushes hard, looking away.

"Just a simple order."

They sit in silence for a time and Sebastian removes his jacket, rising to place it over the back of a chair and to light the fire. He takes a seat by the fire and eventually is joined by the boy who complains of hunger. Sebastian gets up to find some, and while he is absent Ciel lets himself sob for a second, and though no tears are able to fall, he finds that he is comforted. Because the truth is, he  _wants_  Sebastian to touch him, and never before in his miserable existence has he wanted another being to want  _him_.

So when Sebastian returns and their meal is finished, it is no wonder that Ciel is so hurt by Sebastian murmuring, "I don't want you but I don't want anyone else to have you."

And so Ciel just talks. "Don't do that, Sebastian. Don't become attached to me. Do not love me as I am incapable of returning that feeling. The privilege was stripped from me long ago."

The murderer chuckles, "Oh, Ciel. This isn't love." He leans forward, cupping the boy's cheeks, watching as those perfect orbs are veiled, and soft skin becomes faintly pink with the prospect of a kiss. " _This is desire",_  and as much as he would like to lean in, he does not, and the desire becomes so unbearably strong that Ciel decides so suddenly that he will talk, now. He will tell Sebastian of his past.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And this awful desire comes to a head, disgusting the both of them

**Chapter 23**

He realised it when Ciel smiled at him – a true smile – for the first time. In an instant, Sebastian was overcome with numerous desires and fetishes for the small boy. He did not care about his age, or innocence, or his dignity or his pride. Sebastian wanted to tear the rules and burn them in the fire and douse the boy and himself in the moonlit shadows that would cover the dirty deeds he dreamed of doing.

Sebastian does not think the child finds him attractive in the slightest. He is older than the child, and elderly in his eyes, and Ciel knows all too well of the desires of such men. But Sebastian likes him when he's vulnerable. He wants to corrupt the boy in  _every single way_.

So when Sebastian discovers it, he is rather disappointed.

"I've been touched before." Ciel says softly, as not to rouse his pride that will have him blushing in moments. Ciel has already decided to tell the man his past – perhaps then he will see if he can determine the killer's true intentions.

"Oh?" Sebastian looks up. The disappointment is clear on his face. This earns a slight smile from the dear torture of Ciel.

"How else did you think I got the information I required without a single penny on my being?" And the child chuckled sardonically at Sebastian's shocked face and the conversation fizzled into the fire.

And so Sebastian decides to do things differently than all the others. The contract binds them to each other, and Sebastian can only take his prize when his task is completed. So let's have Ciel gently, Sebastian decides, and close the curtains so the moon cannot spy. Sebastian wants to make him blush, a darker shade than any other time, and to coat the boy in a slickness of sweat and impurity that is so dirty and horribly wonderful that neither of them can hold back. He wants Ciel to be so overcome by a lust he is not even aware he has.

And the both of them can pretend they don't look at each other the way they do, and Sebastian is eager to see Ciel looked surprised when he kisses him for the first time. Sebastian wonders if he'll be able to lie to both himself and the killer with this expression, or whether his excitement will betray him.

Ciel is looking at him with soft, tired eyes, but Sebastian knows that he can have the boy groaning and reaching for heaven with his porcelain hips if he touches him in this moment. Sebastian knows he won't be kind, for he has never been kind, but he'll be different than the others. He'll make sure the boy has fun.

But Sebastian realises when the boy smiles at him again that this is not all he wants. He knows in the end he'll hold the boy, even after the pleasure of hurting him. And maybe he'll hold him after he has slipped away so the child won't see this weakness.

Sebastian doesn't realise that in amongst these thoughts his hand has shot out to the child's face, and the look of giddy surprise Ciel wears has Sebastian sweating slightly.

Sebastian realises, then, what it is that he wants. He wants Ciel. He wants the true Ciel, the one that holds him dearly and speaks with gratitude. He wants the Ciel whose pride is in shambles and whose dignity left him long ago.

He wants the Ciel that is overcome with pleasure.

"I lied," Sebastian murmurs, "I do want you."

Ciel responds with a small smile, "I know."

"And no one else can have you."

"I know," he says again.

"I don't think either of us ever wanted this," says Sebastian, "I think God has made a mistake with us."

"What God?" Ciel says. He says it softly and absentmindedly and is staring into Sebastian's eyes.

And Sebastian knows in that moment exactly what he wanted to be for Ciel. He wanted him to have faith.  _Because surely the pleasure Sebastian was about give could only come from heavenly fingers?_

Their first kiss is rather childlike. It's neat and precious; Ciel leans forward with such an innocent air about him, and nicks Sebastian's bottom lip with his teeth, and then brings his lips over the small incision, and draws away in that same second.

Sebastian's hand is still on his face. He looks from the boy's lips to his eyes, neck to eyes, abdomen to eyes, and does not dare go any further for fear of rushing this perfect moment. He tilts his head to the side and locks lips with Ciel, and watches as the boy's eyes are veiled by petal white curtains, and Sebastian decides he's not going to feel anything. He decides he'll ignore both the racing of his heart and the screeching of his brain for being such a fool.

Because Sebastian cannot love him. Because Ciel cannot love  _him_.

Because he's afraid of there being no meaning to this perfection.

And then there is that sudden, ferocious rush when it is not enough,  _never enough_ , and Ciel clings to Sebastian's shoulders as the man carries him over to the bed and pushes forward, and down, until the boys legs are around him. He slips off Ciel's shoes and flings them over his back.

"Wouldn't it be good," Sebastian murmured, leaning down over the small body underneath him, "to forget everything, even if it's just for tonight? Indulge in pleasure whilst I breathe this sweet poison deep into your lungs…"

"S-Sebastian!" Ciel uttered, face flushed and shocked. He sees the boy cringe and senses the boiling fever of self-hatred rise up in the boy's stomach.

"I'll become your everything, even if it's just for tonight. I'll make you sing a song of sickly sweet pleasure, dear Ciel. And then you'll  _forget_."

 _Forget it all, all of it, all of the pain. Forget it all until there's only me. Be left with nothing, stripped bare and cold; that quivering child that was thought to have disappeared. That is the person I want to devour._ You _are the one I want._

Before he knew it, Ciel had arched his back enough that Sebastian found it positively unbearable – he drew the shirt over the boy's head and Ciel's arms found their way around the man's neck; he pulled him down into a strong kiss, where the killer's hands strung around the supple form, gliding down the soft velvet skin to his pants. His fingers danced above Ciel's free eye, and in seconds the patch had been removed, and that alone made Ciel blush with the thought Sebastian would dislike his new appearance, but instead Sebastian smiled, kissing the lid of his eye as he closed it.

"You're positively adorable, young master," he purred, kissing him again as the boy began to protest. That's when hands became untamed, Ciel roughly grabbing at Sebastian's head, and groaning softly as the man pressed their bodies together. An unbearable heat grew up between them, Sebastian's knee parting Ciel's legs, and the boy, subdued and submissive, parted them an inch, until Sebastian growled, "More", and the child smiled sheepishly as he wrapped them around the man's back.

It was slower than Ciel had expected. Far different from any other of his experiences, but he could see the look on Sebastian's face that spoke of his difficulty in restraining himself from ravishing the child, and this fact made Ciel shudder and Sebastian grinned at the child beneath him.

Sebastian met his eyes and Ciel greedily groaned when the killer moved away, gazing at the child with this air of desire, fingers at the top of his pants, not daring to go any further. And then, suddenly, he was so  _desperate_  for the child, that a growl escaped him, and the buttons were undone, and Sebastian pushed himself down off the mattress, bringing Ciel forward as he shuffled out of his pants. The man removed his own shirt, and smiled at the child's quivering member beneath the material of his underwear.

"Oh, my," he chuckled, daring a glance at the blushing child who now sat upright.

"Shut up," he breathed, sweaty and nervous as Sebastian's hands glided up the skin of his thigh; the muscles became tense at the touch and the man watched as the underwear became a restraint, watched as Ciel's eyes closed and he breathed heavily, biting his lip and smiling as Sebastian's fingers  _finally_  reached the edge of the garment. Sebastian watched as his affection for the child became real.

And then, as he peeled the thing from the boy's gorgeous, sharp hips, the desire became too much, and Ciel dropped to his elbows as Sebastian slid the thing from the boy's sweet skin. A smile erupted onto the man's face and he leant forward, sliding his hand around the boy's shaft. He brought his thumb to the tip, and the boy groaned so loudly at the touch that his head fell backwards, and his hips arched at the simple touch.

"M-mph," he groaned out, and Sebastian continued stroking the thing, smiling still at the finality of his actions. Yes, he realised, he could never go back.

He brought he head forward and kissed the base, earning a pleasurable response from the child, and then when he tongued it, Ciel's hand shot down to his head, pulling him forward. Sebastian licked up the thing to the tip, and then down, encompassing Ciel in the warmth and wet of his mouth. It wasn't long before the child came, embarrassed and loud, and then awfully silent, panting on his back, and Sebastian through the material of his pants could feel the sticky substance seeping through, and he smiled at the child on his back, for few could make him feel this way.

Ciel, blushing and eager, could feel the disgust sweep up inside him, but quickly swallowed it down as Sebastian climbed on top of him, tilting his head, concerned, murmuring, "Are you alright, Ciel?"

Ciel is slightly shocked at the absence of his heading, and growls, "Call me by my title."

Sebastian's smile creeps along his face as he whispers, "Is that an order, young master?"

And Ciel's smile screams, "Oh, yes", so much that Sebastian is already at his neck before he has a chance to respond. He bites and nips and licks and sucks at Ciel's side, creeping up to his strong jaw, which his bites once more, all along until his find the child's lips and all too suddenly he shoots upward, and Ciel grunts in displeasure, frowning and stubborn.

"Sh," Sebastian smiles, creeping two fingers into the child's mouth, and the boy smiles as he grabs them, working his tongue along them, coating them in the slick of his mouth. Sebastian quietly undoes his pants, sliding them down as much as he can, and Ciel groans simply at the sight of the bulge, raising an eyebrow in response. Sebastian removes all garments, and returns his fingers to the child's mouth, and it's Ciel's first time seeing him naked, and all he can do is stare at him, guiding his eyes up and down at the sight. When Sebastian removes his fingers, the boy latches his legs around the man's back, arching the small of his back with desire.

Sebastian guides his legs around his neck, and Ciel's brows furrow in his embarrassment. "Christ," he groans, dropping his head back as Sebastian fingers the entrance, slipping a finger inside him. Ciel pushes forward, thrusting the thing further inside him, and Sebastian joins it with another, scissoring the boy open.

The noises Ciel makes are unbearable for Sebastian, and he bites his lip, bringing his hand down to his member standing tall, guiding it along the way he's used to.

"S-shit," Ciel manages, panting and groaning, his hips moving up and down, up and down as Sebastian fingers him, smiling and barely managing himself. When a third finger is entered, Ciel cannot  _stand_ it, and his hips are thrusting and circling for more, he  _needs more_.

"S-Sebastian..!" Ciel grunts out, "Ah," struggling to keep his head up, "S-shit," his hand darted out to the man's neck as he drew himself down to the child.

"Do you think you're ready, young master?" Sebastian smiles.

"Y-yes!" Ciel groans, "Yes, please… oh, God!" His head dropped again and Sebastian comes down to nip at it, before breathing into his ear, "What God?"

He removes the fingers with speed and Ciel grunts in objection; the killer guides the legs around his back as he straightens, guiding himself into Ciel's warm entrance. Ciel thrusts – Sebastian does, indeed, have him reaching for heaven – groaning and grunting at every push Sebastian dares. The man is touching the boy with such ease, such subtle grace that the boy can hardly breathe without feeling the fire inside him, without breathing out pure pleasure.

Ciel groaned at the pain and the desire, loud and uncontrolled, entering the frenzy that marked the climax of the night's dance.

The look on Sebastian's face, Ciel thought, was genuine enjoyment, and so the boy thrust and thrashed against the man's pumping member, faster and faster, watching as the man matched the speed, and the time, moaning so loudly as the man drove deeper and deeper into the child's entrance.

The noises, Sebastian thought, oh, how enchanting those noises were, and he let out a groan as he pushed his way through, as the boy tightened, gasping and panting, clawing at his back like an untamed beast, juices flowing down his soft, quivering thighs. And when he finally hit the orgasm, head back, body shaking, moaning out filthy things, he let out a sigh of gorgeous relief, and Sebastian came as the boy tightened more, and the two of them were so filthy, so wet, so dirty that they collapsed into each other, smiling and panting at the heat they'd made between.

And neither of them could think in that moment. Neither of them could decide whether it  _had_  just been desire. Sebastian would later face the confusion of the feeling he was now experiencing – still soaring in the blissful glow of his own orgasm, the first one anyone had made him feel, relaxed and thoroughly exhausted and so very much at peace – but that confrontation would come much later, and all he could do right now was breathe into the boy's soft chest, gliding his hand up and down the soft skin as the child held him tight. They held each other close, and Ciel felt so overwhelmingly happy for a reason he could not place, smiling into the man's smooth hair, encompassed by arms and warmth and pleasure and joy.

Their heart rates slowed, and both fell into a perfect deep sleep, comforted but unwillingly to admit that that night had been the most purest display of affection either one had ever experienced, the single most perfect moment in their miserable and tragic existences. Oh, Sebastian thought, curled into the boy's body,  _this is perfection._


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Their first morning after consists of Sebastian staring at the rise and fall of the boy's supple frame with an awfully calm look as he comes to the realisation that the night before was actually enjoyable for him.

Enjoyable. He pauses at the thought, circling the word around in his mouth before attempt to replace it with  _pleasant._  Yes, he thinks, it was quite a  _pleasant_  evening, but the drop of his stomach tells him pleasant is a hardly adequate description of the magic the two had woven between the sheets the night before.

He does not find comfort in this thought. Weakness, he thinks, looking at the peace on the child's face, he has become my weakness. Yet, as he looks at the sleeping child, he can't help but let the small smile on his face as he watches the boy, finally content, finally at peace, and he knows such a face will be erased the moment he wakes up. Sebastian cannot tell what sort of child Ciel is, anymore.

Sweet, sour, a little bitter… he watches the sleeping Earl and then, quietly, turns away, creeping out of the bed top find the rumpled clothes on the floor. It is not yet dawn, and Sebastian is aware he will have to wake the child soon, but not yet. He slips out of the room shortly after, wandering down the meandering corridors of the Resistance's headquarters until he happens upon the room where several familiar faces are. Sebastian closes his eyes as all faces turn to him – Grell looks away quickly, staring blankly at the wall as he clenches his fists whilst Will looks at Sebastian for a very long time – and goes to leave before Will murmurs, "Wait." Sebastian pauses, sighing, before he turns around smiling slightly.

"Ah, now why would I want to do that?"

Will clicks his tongue before he turns to the others in the room. "Leave us."

"Oh?" Sebastian murmurs, smiling, as Grell stares at him darkly before leaving the room.

A moment of silence passes between them before Sebastian is asked to sit and complies. He feels the cold metal of the silver butter knife at his side as he does so, turning to Will with a certain air of curiosity.

"You are aware that your involvement with the child creates only an enormous and over-bearing target for the Master to eliminate before she is able to get to you?"

Sebastian furrowed his brows. Will continued, sharply. "You weren't exactly discreet", he murmured as Sebastian grinned at him, pressing forward, "But really, now that you've murdered two of her officials, she won't be kind in your attempt to eliminate those responsible for the death of the child's parents. She's not stable."

"Who is  _she?"_

Will shrugged. "At the moment, it's nothing you need to know. Currently, I suggest you stick the objective and eliminate those responsible." He turned away for a second before continuing. "Grell tells me your targets are those from your previous…  _employment opportunity._ "

"Yes, he is indeed correct."

"I see."

"Speaking of the red head…"

"He's merely bitter, killer." Will stated calmly. "He apparently suspected your relations with the boy, and yet he can't help but be hurt by their existence."

"Tragic." Sebastian said, rising slowly. "It's almost dawn."

"Yes, indeed", Will said, rising also. "You two should disappear soon. Return here when you targets are eliminated – we may seek assistance from each other then, to end the Master's reign." Before Sebastian can ask why he would return once the deeds were done, Will leans in and murmurs, "I'm sure it's what the child would want", and exits, then, returning back to his room with a slight stab of anger rising up inside him.

Weakness, he thinks again, looking at the boy, and then he is silently reminded of the pleasure of the night before, and he frowns at the thought and the feelings that swirl up around his heart.

He goes to the boy, cupping his face. He doesn't know what he's feeling. He kisses the boy lightly, watches as he frowns and stretches, groaning at the displeasure of waking up, as he removes himself from the calm and the peace and returns to the agony of his life.

The boy lets a smile run across his lips, but Sebastian does not smile back, removing his hand from the child's chin and rising up. "There is work to be done, Young Master, and we must leave now."

Ciel looks at him, and feels his heart sink, like all those other times.  _Ah,_  he thinks, clutching his chest,  _how painful_ , how weak of him to feel at all.

He is unnerved, suddenly, by the man before him. He seems so different, a foreign element in comparison to the desirable creature that had ravished him the night before.

Then, he thinks, desire's all it must have been, and he pushes the pain away once more to the back of his heart and promises he will not care. He will do everything in his being to not care about this man.

But as the man turns and his eyes soften for a slight second, Ciel knows the very thought is a hopeless one, but the pair continue lying to themselves, and all that runs through Sebastian's head is the child screaming his name and the control he had over the boy in that moment.

The two set out to complete the contract, and Sebastian wonders why all this has taken so long. The child and he know it well; Sebastian is a quick killer, a spontaneous killer, one who likes the rush of the kill, one who does not draw things out for too long. No, that quiet and slow experimentation had been completed in his youth.

Ciel knows this well from the rush of last night – not short, not long, but an exquisite display of affection and desire all in one.

Sebastian thinks about what the child said to him – he is a killer, at heart, he knows it, and a killer's greatest fault would be to care about the life of something.

So, he wonders, why on earth do I care about the child before me if it means I have a weakness?

And Sebastian realises he knows the answer, he just won't let himself believe it.

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murder

With enough pressure applied, the knife could cut easily across the vulnerable skin of a young man's neck. Sebastian's hands are already covered in blood but he grabs the man before him as he squeals, reining him back to his own bloodied body.

"Hush", he murmurs, and the man's whimpers become stiff, short breaths. "I'm sure you missed me", he smiles, drawing the knife to the outstretched neck, and for a second he slackens his grip and the man underneath doesn't bother running.  _Good_ , Sebastian thinks,  _he remembers._ And then the knife is ripped along and the blood starts flowing instantly; Dagger kicks wildly beneath him, involuntarily, for if his body allowed him he'd have closed his eyes to the sight of Beast's face and gone with that. "She'd never have loved you anyway", Sebastian murmurs, and he isn't sure if the man died before or after the words fell from his lips.

He drops the body and kicks him away. Dagger's head lops to one side and he's staring into the glazed eyes of Joker's severed head. Ciel sits in a fine garb on the edge of a rotting wooden piano, kicking restlessly as the bodies fall around him. The garter on his left leg has detached, and the striped stocking has fallen down the boy's small leg to be collected around his ankle. Sebastian's eyes fall to the small bunch and he debates whether he should fix the thing before killing the remaining two. Ciel yawns as Sebastian stands up. To the boy's right swings the curvaceous figure of the woman Ciel had referred to as a "desperate whore" when he discovered Sebastian had had her for the fun of it.

"Are you jealous, Young Master?"

Ciel had glared at him and turned away. "Kill her. That's an order."

Sebastian's lips quivered with joy, "Yes, my Lord."

She had been strung upside down from the doorway; beneath her, she had collected a small pool of blood.

"You're a monster!" Wendy screeched from the corner. Peter tried to hush her, but Sebastian was already closing in.

"Then what, pray tell, are you?" Sebastian murmured, grinning, fingers outstretched with the knives running through them.

"Please", Peter said, Wendy said. "Don't."

"I didn't", Wendy gurgled, the tears already streaming down her pretty face, "Please, I didn't want to, it was Joker, it was  _Joker_."

"Joker's dead, dear Wendy", Sebastian said, throwing Peter to the side. The boy scrambled up and tried bolting, but by the time he reached the door, the knife was already in his skull. "And now there's only you."

Wendy's scream was perhaps the most deafening of all because Sebastian had almost liked the girl.  _Ah_ , he thought,  _what I do for lov-_

He paused.  _Love._ He was about to say the awful word, about to toss it about like it was nothing, in the air, around his mouth like it wouldn't make him suffer. He sniffs and stands up, wiping the blood on the dead girl's blouse. Her eyes are rolled back in her head, white and gone, and her mouth is open, forever screaming. The weakest of all. Even above the skill of Snake, she'd been the hardest to kill.

 _Hardest to kill_. Killing had never been hard before, not at all. And yet now, Sebastian had to think about his actions, about each steep, each look. He shouldn't be looking, but he was. Ciel sat yawning on the piano, one leg over the other. Noah's Ark Circus has departed from the confines of the order as they thought some disclosed location would be safer, somehow.

 _They should have stayed put_ , Sebastian thought.

The boy bobbed his foot, the bunch of stocking sliding up and down the tiny calf. His head had lolled back to stare up, somewhere in the direction of the chandelier or the broken body of Sebastian's desperate whore. Sebastian watched him, neck bare and open. He noticed the small red marks that detailed the soft porcelain of his skin; saw the ebony of his hair glint when the sun reached him. His eyes were veiled; hands locked as if they were the only support, and Sebastian could not stop his mind wandering to a similar stance the boy had been in, head thrown back, neck bare, legs reaching. A smile crept along his lips before he stopped himself. He looked away, surveying the mess around him before turning back and walking to the boy. When Sebastian's hands touched him his leg stopped moving and he waited, head back, as Sebastian slowly glided the material over his leg. Nimble fingers move to reattach the garter and Sebastian notices the boy bite down on his bottom lip. Sebastian lets a sigh escape him and Ciel is roused, opening an eye as he launches himself up.

"What is it?"

Sebastian pauses, and looks him, shaking his head. "Shall we, Young Master?"

Ciel gives him this strange look before he pushes off onto the ground. His cane hits the floor with a light  _clop!_  and the two walk together until they reach the door where Sebastian steps aside to let the boy pass. The air that greets them is fresh; the boy had been so used to scent of death he closed his eyes as he breathed it in. Sebastian smiled at that. He takes a final glance at his handiwork, at the blood strewn across the abandoned shack and the supple, swinging body of the first girl he had. And then he turns and walks and closes that door forever.

* * *

The next town they reach proclaims the Master as the highest being to ever have graced the sad, lowly land. As Sebastian tilts his head to the soft fall of snow around him, he notes the lines of soldiers standing firm against the walls. He knows the reason they are there as much as they do, and so he takes the child by the wrist and moves him away, circling back the way they had come to the first shady inn he had spotted. The child says nothing, lets Sebastian manoeuvre him this way and that until he steps over the threshold. In that single instant when the innkeeper's eye hits the fine details of Ciel's jacket, the polished shimmer of his shoes and the pointed elegance of the cane, Sebastian wishes he had been more forceful that morning when the child had insisted on wearing the only Earl-worthy garment he still owned.

"It would not be proper to appear to them as an urchin." He had murmured in his defence.

Sebastian had looked at him and said, softly, "It would not be proper to arrive at anyone's place of residence intent on slicing their throat."

Ciel had looked up, bit his lip and whispered, "No, indeed", but by this point the buckle on his shoe had been clicked and he was not keen to redress again. As he rose, the boy knocked the plate of untouched food to the side, off the arm where it had balanced precariously for the last few minutes. Sebastian had caught it, certainly, but he was concerned with the plate's contents. He looked to Ciel, the skinny thing, and said nothing of it, though he knew the boy was nervous; noted the skip in his step, the way he fidgeted with the blue lace on his gloves.  _Ah_ , he thought, _perhaps murder is not always the answer_.

Though the moment the boy had learned of his antics with Beast, all sense of anxiety had been swept away by a fearsome look Sebastian could only attribute to jealously. After telling him such, the boy glared at him, had risen the cane up and had intended to bring the thing down on Sebastian's shin – how lightly he intended to do so, Sebastian was unsure – but he had smiled at the child, noted the spike of his eyebrows, the twist of his supple, silent mouth, and the cane had been brought down. From then on, they had continued in silence to the next town.

And now. Ciel looked at him - he had been sure they would continue on throughout the night - Sebastian knew he was intent on ending this thing soon, though Sebastian himself felt no need to rush at all. Sebastian, of course, had not a cent on him but for the silver of the blood-stained knives. He had not thought of that. Sebastian opened his mouth in an attempt to barter, but Ciel had already slipped the ring off his small thumb. It landed with a thump onto the counter, and the boy did not wait for the man to let them pass, pushing through and up the creaking wooden steps. The innkeeper had the ring in his hand, inspecting the gem every which way.

"The first on your left", he giggled out, "Only one bed, last room we had. One night."

Ciel's final heirloom was worth far more than one night, but Sebastian managed a stiff smile and said, "It shouldn't be a problem", before following his young master up the flight of steps.

Ciel was leaning over a pre-prepared fire as Sebastian walked in. He was bent over, cane discarded against the chair, and Sebastian watch the fire pulsate along the child's small thighs. He did not seem pleased with his handiwork, Sebastian noted, seemed no different from three days passed when Sebastian announced he had the location of his parent's murderers.

Sebastian wondered what was in that pretty head of his, and he had not a single clue how he had made it across the room. Ciel paused and stood to look at him, eyeing him carefully.

"What is it?"

Sebastian brought his fingers to the boy's chin. The fire lit up the sapphire of his eyes, made them bright and daring. It revealed the fine creases of his temples, the tucks and folds in the silk of his lips. Sebastian lent down and kissed him, and neither of them closed their eyes for a moment, until they had to, needed to. Sebastian's hand slid around the child's thin waist, Ciel's hands gripped the cotton of his shirt, pulling the killer to him. Sebastian feels the warmth of the child's mouth, the wetness of his tongue, and then the crash came from outside and the two pulled away, eyes closed. They heard the scattered apologies of two guests outside, the collection of fallen pieces, the footsteps as they left, but it was too late and the moment had passed. Ciel sighed as he dropped himself on the bed. The floor beneath him creaked with each step and floorboards seemed almost close to rot.

"I have no bed clothes", Ciel murmured, pulling the end of his neck tie. Sebastian watched the thing untie and crumple to the floor. The boy lent down to undo his shoes and Sebastian wanted ever so much to aid him but instead he left the room and returned shortly after with an oversized shirt he assumed would do finely, though Ciel seemed displeased.

How odd, Sebastian thought, that in previous dire situations he would give himself to any who so desired, and yet cannot bear the prospect of wearing another's clothes. But then Sebastian paused, watched as the boy pulled the thing down, slowly, saw Sebastian watching and pulled the thing down even slower, letting it rest just below his hips.  _Wrong_ , Sebastian thought,  _so very wrong… the boy wants me to make another mistake._

Sebastian collected the garments and began to fold them carefully as behind him the boy tugged at the shirt and slid himself to dangle his feet over the edge. When he was done, Sebastian turned to find Ciel as a boy, as a child, wide eyes looking down at him, Ciel with one sock, with ruffled hair and tired gaze. He found himself smiling at that.

Ciel looked away. "I'm tired", he murmured.

"Then sleep", Sebastian said, taking a seat by the fire.

Ciel did as he was told, climbed into bed, and closed his eyes. Sebastian watched him as the boy fingered the place where his father's ring had rested, and felt a slight pang. He was sure the boy felt it too, that the flat feather bed and weak fire were nothing in comparison to that ring. And so, Sebastian waited until the child's breathing slowed and stood, creeping over to the door. At a final glance he saw peace on the boy's face and hoped – to whoever was listening – he would not be plagued with nightmares. But such a nicety was soon replaced with darker thought; with the boy writhing beneath him wildly and Sebastian closed the door and walked down the stairs and forgot such things.

* * *

He'd decided to give the man an offer he couldn't refuse, as it were, though had not intended to leave him quite so frightened. There he was, like a cornered animal, slipping in his own urine, eyes wide and Sebastian walked over to him. The killer reached out, pale fingers sliding down to the knife in the man's arm. He twisted it. The groan the man let out was not the groan he wanted to hear. He tried again, twisting, pushing the knife, and the scream that erupted gave him no joy. No, indeed, the moans he desired would come from pleasure – Ciel's, specifically – and suddenly he wanted him, needed the child. Sebastian's hand darted beneath the man's coat to take the gleaming sapphire ring; his fingers enclosed around it. He threw five golden coins to the floor and murmured, "For your trouble", when really he'd pried the coins from behind the man's own locked drawer, but the man did not yet know and looked at the coins with a gleam in his eye, even despite his current state. The room reeked of his urine, so Sebastian left him and wandered out to find several curious faces collected around him.

"The poor man", he said, "broke a bottle – the glass was embedded in his foot, it took some time to remove it. Oh, yes", he nodded to a woman about to ask a question; "He was drinking heavily, of course." And at that, left the bunch to meander back to their rooms. Sebastian had other plans.

But by the time he reached the room, Sebastian knew something was not right. He heard the child's voice seeping out, heard him beg.

"Please", Ciel whispered. He heard a gasp and closed his eyes. Oh, the jealously. It ran through him like a fast poison and he found himself hating,  _hating, hating_  –

He burst through the door, yelling, knives in hand, ready to kill, to kill, to rip the heart out of the man behind this door –

\- and found instead a sobbing Ciel in a blood stained shirt; the cowled man above him had driven him to the back of the bed; Sebastian watched the hand that held the knife to the child's quivering throat, the blood that seeped down his leg and arm and finally – and most painfully – the hand that danced under the boy's shirt.

The first knife punched through between the shoulder blades and sent the man reeling backwards. He dropped his knife – Ciel slid away to grab at it – and turned to confront his attacker. He saw Sebastian, saw the anger, and laughed.

"Oh, dear Sebastian", he said, "it seems you have a weakness." He smiled once more, drawing the cum-covered hand up to lick at it. "The Master says hello."

At that, Sebastian ran forward in a fit of rage, stabbing the next one through the man's chest, his leg, his neck. When he was out of knives, he scratched and kicked and bit, ripping out the jelly of the man's eyes and screaming, screaming, crying, oh..

He picked the knife from between the man's skull and stood, turning. He saw the boy on the bed and sighed at the body beneath him. Sebastian dropped it, blinking, watching the stunned boy. His leg was still mid-air, knife in hand, but he threw it aside. Sebastian was covered in the stench of blood, but Ciel did not mind. Sebastian brought a bloodied hand to back of the child's knee and rested there.

"What did he do to you", he said and it wasn't a question. The damage was clear. The boy's cheeks were tear-stained. Sebastian frowned at that, and rubbed them.

"I know", Ciel said, "That was weak of me. I've had worse."

Sebastian said nothing, moving his hand back to the child's leg.

"But I don't know why I cried. I've had worse. I've never cried. I've never-"

Sebastian's hand was sliding down the porcelain of his skin, down, down, until he felt the wetness. He looked at him, the child, flushed and shamed.

 _Just the way I like him_.

Part of him hated that thought, and so Sebastian turned, dragging the body away.

"Don't!" Ciel began, obviously frightened by the thought of Sebastian leaving him alone. And so the man, at a loss, kissed his forehead and lay with him until he fell asleep. It was hours before the child could let himself fall away into quiet slumber, and Sebastian attempts to slip out to dispose of it when Ciel jerks up and hold Sebastian's neck.

Staring at each other, Ciel takes a few moments before he composes himself. "I can't sleep", he says. Part of him is shaking. "Make me not feel."

A softer part of Sebastian tells him to put the child to sleep, that he is not thinking straight. Sebastian smothers this part of him, kills it, drowning it in his shame so that his weakness is destroyed.

"I think", Sebastian said, removing the blood stained shirt before pushing the boy down onto the bed. "I know why you cried."

Instantly, the fear left the child's eyes as he lowered himself back onto the bed. Ciel let a sliver of a smile escape him. "Oh?" He murmured, arms reaching back over his head. There he was, outstretched and naked and beautiful. Sebastian felt himself stiffen.

"You knew", Sebastian said, kissing down the boy's leg, "He couldn't make you feel like this."

Ciel smiled, pushing back as Sebastian slid his fingers around his cock. "Oh?"

Slowly, his hand moved, up and down, until the boy shuddered beneath him, smiling still. He brought his mouth down on him and worked to remove his own clothes before the child could climax.

Ciel giggled again. "Like what, Sebastian? I seem to have forgotten." He smiled again, "Ah.. ah..!" He threw his head back and sighed. "Perhaps you shou-uld, ah.. show me.."

Sebastian brought his mouth off the head – earning a disappointed growl – and said, "Is that an order, Yong Master?"

"Ah…" Ciel panted, bringing himself up to look at him and smiled. "Of course it is."

The smile that Sebastian showed almost made Ciel come right there. But it was the way he whispered, "Yes, my Lord" with the dancing of his fingers that made him climax the way he did. He groaned and writhed, shuddering beneath Sebastian, and opened his eyes as Sebastian brought himself up to kiss him.

The boy looked sleepy, he knew, but when he told him so, he laced his arms around Sebastian's neck and drew himself up to whisper in his ear. What he said made Sebastian smile. Oh, no, there was no way he was done with him quite yet.

But certainly, hours later, as they lay together, Sebastian felt odd. Ignoring the ever growing presence of the Master, it frightened him how willing he was to seek comfort from the child whom he would one day, soon, torture to death. For that was what he wanted of him, was it not? That was the contract that was passed between them…? His eyes softened at the boy's squirming and he kissed the child's head. Beneath him, however, Ciel was fearful of much the same, and for once, he found himself wondering if he should have given himself as the contract's prize. Especially now.

Especially now he wanted to live.

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

"The little bitch!" The screaming is hoarse. Will rolls his eyes, and turns to the Master, whose hands are outstretched. The blood seeps from her mouth. "The bitch boy has my heir around his finger, the cunt. I'll end him! I swear it, I'll end him!" The coughing echoes throughout the room, and Will turns away to grab a cloth.

 _Just a little longer_ , the man thinks,  _and she'll be dead. And then we make our move._

"William!"

The man in question turns. "My Master, what is it?"

"They've rotted again, haven't they? Haven't they?"

Will could smell the rot days ago, but nonetheless, he yanks the blanket from the girl's body. The skin on her chest peels away with it, and the smell circles up into his face. He stops himself from coughing.

"Yes, Master, they have."

The girl begins to weep. "But I must, Will! I must know. Why can't I know? Why won't this work?" The sobbing quietens as Will brushes the wisps of fine hair behind the girl's head.

"My Master, I must tell you. Our dear Undertaker has not returned with any new parts. With have one specimen left. Since the Noah's Ark Circus collapsed, there haven't been many…" Will paused for the slightest of seconds, searching for the right word, "Corrections. Without the –"

She screamed. The sound reverberated off every surface until she had launched herself up. "William!" She screeched. "No." She resumed her crying.

 _Soon_. Will reminded himself.  _Soon, the Old Religion will start again._

"I need to know, William. If I am not bonded with the affiliates who go against my order, how will I get everyone to love me?" She began scratching at her skinless chest. "This, this brave New World!" She dropped back onto the bed and closed her eyes. "I cannot abandon this project."

"Master", Will began, "if you were to stop this, perhaps you would see a way to fully convert everyone. But this madness –"

"Madness?" She screamed. Once again, she launched up and began beating at his chest.

"Please", Will whispered. "You were great in the Old World."

"I am great here!"

"Victoria –"

"THAT IS NOT MY NAME." She stopped, and sighed, and closed her eyes. "I am the Master. The Master of me, of you, of this. I am not just some girl."

He looks at her. "You never were."

Born a girl and driven mad by her belief in a better world. That's what she had set out to do, after all. Make a better world. She had been born a girl, but born a queen. Queen of Old England.

He sighs, thinking of his father, when he'd told his son of the Master, the Queen. "She's not immortal", he'd said, for it had only taken four generations to place Will where he was, and yet… Her body was that of a girl's. Neither his father no he had understood how this alone was possible. There had been several theories, the most popular being that this current body was all but a vessel, and that the original Master, the original Queen, had found some way of transmitting her conscious to another being. However, Will's father had seen the same girl Will had spied on for many years. There had not been a single change in her appearance, or her demeanour, for that matter. Whatever the reasoning behind her immaculate youth (perhaps it was her playing at being God, and this odd swapping of organs), she was still immensely insane, and immensely powerful.

He closes his eyes and exits the scene, wondering if anyone had dared to stop her as a child if any of this would have ever happened. This madness, these deaths, these generations of resistance…

But now, the child has the leverage.  _And we can end it_ , he thinks,  _once and for all._

Yes, end it. But to end it, there needed to be leads, and the Resistance had been sitting on every movement of Sebastian and the Master for the last month. It was ridiculous. With all his talk of reclaiming their rights, of restoring order, Will T. Spears and the rest of his Shinigami order had done nothing to move their plan along.

Until now. The Master wanted to know things, and Will wanted to know things, too. He'd seen the figure come and go, and always at times that inconvenienced him. And after their visits, the Master always knew more than William would tell her. So, what? An external source of news, a pawn, or a sleeper cell?

 _Perhaps_ , he thinks _, all three_.

Whoever passed the information on would have had an eye on Sebastian from the start. Will already knows this creature is from the assassin's guild. The Master wanted her heir perfectly evil from the beginning.

He returns to the Master's side. "We could send someone." He murmurs.

"What?" She squeaks, waking in slight terror. "Send someone?"

"Yes. We could send someone who knows Sebastian well. Bring him back on the right path."

She closes her eyes. "Yes…" She murmurs, falling into sleep's clutches. Will juts forward, needing a name, something.

"Who?" He asks. "Who?!"

"Sh, Will. Send the Father. The Father will know."

"The…?" And then it all clicks. The man races from the room, and once out of this building, sends word to the Shinigami. "Grell." He sends, for Grell will know.

 _He must know the name_. And even not, then Sebastian will know. Oh, my, my. It's all falling into place. Soon. And soon, it will all come to an end.

Will wonders how many deaths it will take. How far can he come out of this unscathed?

He remembers the way Sebastian looked at Ciel and, indeed, how the boy returned such a gaze. He closes his eyes.

_Not very far. Not very far at all._


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Ciel wakes with a start to find he is wrapped in the arms on Sebastian, who has been gazing at him as the sun filters through the moth-bitten curtains onto the boy's face.

"Oh."

Sebastian kisses his forehead and wrinkles his nose. "I am displeased."  
Ciel looks down. "At me?"

Sebastian snorts. "At William." Sebastian pushes himself over the boy's quivering body. "How dare he not warn me." Sebastian is staring at the child. "How dare he let that man get so close to you." He brings a hand to push the boy's hair behind his ear. The child closes his eyes and turns to the bedside table. The sapphire ring sits gleaming.

Ciel pauses and pushes himself up from the bed. "Wh-when?" He glances at the man and slips the thing onto his thumb. After caressing it a moment, he looks up, frowning. "Thank you. Once again, I am in your debt."

Sebastian says nothing to this. "Come. We must leave soon."

The body of the infiltrator lies rigid and bloody on their floor. Sebastian scoffs at the ungraceful nature of his death.

As he dresses, and watches the boy, and wipes the half dried blood from the silver knives, Sebastian tries not to think too much about anything at all. When the two are ready, he leans down to kiss Ciel gently on the lips, and then again, softer, on his forehead.

Ciel giggles. "What have I done to you, killer?"

Sebastian grins at the boy. "Much the same of what I've done to you, I suppose."

The child freezes, eyes wavering, and shrugs. "Come", he murmurs, and Sebastian follows gladly behind him. "Where to, You Master?"  
"To William." Ciel turns to the empty desk, breathes in the foul stench – it's urine, Sebastian knows, that man's – and his eyes glance over the touch of blood on the desk's corner. Sebastian notes the child ghost over the sapphire ring and sees the smile caress his face. And then he walks, and says nothing, and Sebastian's insides furl and flutter.

* * *

"And you're sure, Grell?"

The man in question chuckles light-heartedly. "Certainly. He almost caught me carving once, after my dear Sebby left. Ah, Sebastian – that sexy boy almost caught me in the assassin's order, too. Wasn't I sloppy, as a child? How foul…!"

Will looks at him and sighs. "Do we have tabs on the boy and Sebastian? Do we know where they are?"

As the last words fell from Will's mouth, a sentry burst through the rotting door, panting and pointing. "There, in the field outside. That boy has come back."

Will let the air escape him. "Fine. Bring them in. We do this now. Everything's almost in place."

It was mere moments before the steaming killer walked through the door. "How dare you, scum. To allow such trash near my Young Master, without so much as a warning -"

"Forgive me, Sebastian. There are more important matters at hand."

"More important-"

"Why", Will said, frowning, as Ciel strutted through, "Are you dressed as such…?" He was referring to the young Earl's noble garb.

"Why", Sebastian said, moving to face William behind Ciel, "Would he renounce his nobility now?"

"My parent's killers… I believe they are dead."

"In which case, boy, you are wrong. Sit." Sebastian could not help notice the slight smile that appeared as the words were said. "I was not aware you were being pursued, and for any damage I assume responsibility."

"The type of damage done", Sebastian muttered, "is not something that can be replaced."

"Oh..?" Will's eyes darted to the boy, who was looking absentmindedly away from the situation. Will sighed with his understanding and bowed his head.

"Humans cannot reject temptation, William T. Spears." Sebastian's darkened eyes met the man's. "You should know that, working with the Master."

"She wishes to eliminate you, Ciel."

Ciel frowns. "Me? The deaths of a few assassins could hardly provoke such a response. Did she give a reason?"

"For what you mean to Sebastian."

The silence is deafening. After a moment, the child mutters, "I mean nothing."

"No I -" The killer pauses, and swallows, and Ciel starts to turn his head. "What does this have to do with myself and the Young Master?"

"Everything", Will mutters. "Tell me, Sebastian, who was it that used to care for, back in the monastery."

Sebastian furrowed his brow. "Father Kelvin."

" _Baron_  Kelvin, I'll think you'll find." Will reaches for a file and it is passed to Sebastian.

"Baron…?"

"Yes, yes. You're lecturer and teacher, and the Master's pawn sent to mould you."

"Why?" Ciel asks, "Why are we involved in this?"

Will is shaking his head. "Don't you see, boy? She wants him." He turned to Sebastian. "The Master wants you."

"Interesting", Sebastian chuckles, "But why in hell would she want me? To what purpose does she strive?"

"Well", Will murmurs, "You're heir to the throne."

* * *

"Why? What on earth would possess you to kill that man?"

"Kelvin orchestrated the Noah's Ark Circus, Spears. I am under contract, and that takes priority."

Ciel has not moved from the seat he took when offered.

Will rolls his eyes. "Fine, so be it. But when you return, I can guarantee she will not be pleased. She will take matters into her own hands, meaning I will be with her. When we meet, it all unfolds, and we will have to kill the Master to reinstate the Old Religion."

Ciel turns to Sebastian, and there's something about that look that makes Sebastian's heart drop. He motions for the door, and soon the child is by his side.

"Sebastian", Ciel says, once they are outside.

"Yes, Young Master?"

"Let's end this. Completely."

The smile creeps along Sebastian lips, and he goes down on one knee, and kisses Ciel, just once, just gently. Once he pulls away, he closes his eyes.

"Yes, my Lord."


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

They ride by carriage. Sebastian took the carriage from the sleeping man and not once did Ciel ask why Sebastian had not slit his throat. Part of him knew. He saw the change reflected in himself.

But right now, the child was sleeping. Every so often Sebastian would glance back into the main hold to watch the boy. He'd glance at the porcelain of his face, take in the sight of the soft ebony hair. He'd check the rise and fall of the boy's chest, and he'd do so all in a glance.

The night had no stars – no, indeed, Sebastian could see the hint of the sun in the distance, its fine morning rays splintering through the sky. And he saw the final destination, too. The assassin's guild. His old home, if you could call it that, and now, the place where it all ended.

Ended. How strange. It seemed as if the child had been a part of his life for a longer time than it had been, and if you were to consider those mysterious visions, it seems he had been. Always there, like a distant shadow, a figment, and Sebastian chuckled to himself that perhaps Ciel was his saving grace and he had been placed by his side by the gods to stop him straying from the path quite like his mother.

He reined the horses in when there were far enough away from the complex not to be spotted. Sebastian considered leaving the child and went so far to kiss him on the cheek – a goodbye? – and turned, but his foot slipped on the gravel and the boy groaned out, "Stop", and Sebastian had to comply. After all, he was still under a contract.

They talked it over. Sebastian could agree to many of the boy's terms for simple fear of his safety and the two of them laughed at that thought, laughed it over softly in the morning light. How  _queer_ , they thought. And then Sebastian pulled the boy close and kissed him wildly until the child softened his grip and fell into him. Sebastian kissed his forehead and helped the boy from the carriage, and the two looked at each other until Ciel shrugged and they walked a while toward the building.

"Under the cover of daylight", Ciel smirked. "They'll never see us coming."

"There's no point, Young Master", Sebastian murmured. "He knows we have come."

Ciel's smile faded. "Then let's make him pay, Sebastian." And the boy walked from the man's side. Sebastian waited for a moment, let the breath escape his lungs, his teeth roll over his lips as he watched the boy's legs. He swallowed the feeling down and closed his eyes for a second before joining him as the child trudged his cane through the grass.

Sebastian took in the building. Eerily quiet it was, but then again, he had murdered everyone else. For a second, he saw himself with Kevin and then Wendy's face flashed across his eyes and he felt oddly sad until he imagined an even younger Ciel seeing the flesh burn of his father. That stopped the sadness.

But still. Baron had been a mentor, and Father Kelvin a source of kindness. To know they were one and the same was one thing, to be walking through the front door of his old home to murder him another.

 _The child_ , he was reminded,  _this is who you do it for_.

Yet when he glanced Ciel over, he saw someone much older than just a boy.  _Too much_ , he thought,  _he's been through too much_.

So once they reached the oak doors, Sebastian pushed through without so much as a second thought. The darkness hit them first, screaming out of the corners and then swallowed by light. The smell, unfortunately, was not so easy to conquer. Ciel rose a hand to his nose and stepped cautiously over the threshold, shortly followed by Sebastian who could not seem to recognise much of the building. The stairs led up to the living quarters, to the right the lecture theatres and the left the greeting area.

"God", Ciel sputtered out.

"Come", Sebastian murmured, taking his hand and leading him to the lecture theatres. Where else would he be but in the place that started it all?

The door loomed before him and he felt his eyes veil. The child looked at him but Sebastian did nothing.

"Sebastian", he said.

"I…"

"Sebastian! Open the door."

But how could he? One more death, one more blood stain and it was over. Over.

_Finally._

But how could he?

He found himself looking at the boy.  _Finally_.

"Fulfil the contract", Ciel whispered. "That's an order."

He swallowed the feeling. Fulfil. Kill. How similar those two words, how similar those two actions.

"Really now", the voice bellowed from behind the door. "You'd think you were a kitten, taking orders from a boy."

"He's not a boy", Sebastian said, slipping through into the room. "He's an Earl, a Master." Sebastian licked his lips and found Baron Kelvin sitting on the desk where he always used to sit. "And he's a killer, a monster, a demon." He felt the child's hand slip from his own and felt the smile ghost over his lips. "Just like me."

"Oh?" Baron chuckled, wiping his brow. He shrugged off his coat. "A demon? Can you beat me, do you think? Kill me… is that what you want, boy?"

Ciel glared him down and the man chuckled again. "For parents. All for parents."

"No. For honour."

"Honour, is it? Childish."

"For me." Ciel said. "For me. I may have become a demon but it will be over. Finally."  
 _Finally._

The Baron grimaced. Sebastian saw him relax, then tense, relax. A ploy, was it? But no. Baron flicked the coat away and reached for the gun. He cocked it and aimed and Ciel smiled and stared him down for the man did not have the time to pull the trigger. The knife was in his shoulder and he staggered backward. The thing slipped from his hand and he sat; Sebastian already at his side, several knifes pinning him to the wall.

"You won't die, not yet. But you will talk." The killer stepped aside and let the boy pass.

"Tell me."

Baron smirked. "What? The meaning of life?"

"You know. You know what I've come for."

He was shaking, Sebastian noted, shaking violently.  _The weakness_.

Baron chuckled. "You want to know why your parents died?"

"No. No I understand why they died. I understand it." He looked away, biting back tears.

 _How strange_ , Sebastian thought.

"Just tell me why they had to die like  _that_."

Baron clicked his tongue, clicked the thoughts over. The two heard them click and roll around the room until it become a chuckle once more. The smile faded quickly. "You know, boy, I used to think I knew. But now I'm not so sure." He rose to meet the child's eyes.

The silence ate them.

"Kill him."

 _Finally_.

"Sebastian." The boy refused to turn, refused to look at him. Fulfil, kill. Was he fulfilled? Would this be the end.

"Sebastian. It's over. Over." Ciel swallowed. "I understand. I understand that it all had to happen."

Sebastian's brow furrowed. "Ciel…?"

"It had to happen. They had to die, I had to… I had to find you."

The killer inside him scowled. Sentiment. Sebastian said nothing.

"Do you know why, Sebastian?" Ciel smiled, turning to look him in the eye. "Because we end it. You and me, killer, we're the revolution." Ciel walked over to him and pulled him down into a short kiss. Sebastian drew away to look at him.

"So kill him, killer. It has to end. We're the revolution. We're not bred for times of peace."

Sebastian began to talk but Ciel rose a finger and shook his head. "That's an order, demon."

And Sebastian felt the grin spread across his face. He dropped to his knees, curled his hand over his heart and the words fell. "Yes, my Lord." And then it was the knife, ripping through the air, which slit Baron Kelvin's throat at the vein.

"Sebastian", Ciel said.

"Yes, Young Master?"

Ciel smiled for a second. "It's just Ciel, now." The two stood in silence for a time.

"Do you mind? If we… if we take this a bit further?"

"The Master?" Sebastian asked. He received a curt nod in response. Ciel turned to look at the bloodied floor. "Aren't you going to retrieve your knives?"

"Will I have need of them?"

"Oh", Ciel smiled. "You never know."

I'd like to tell you, dear reader, that they walked out the door and into the carriage and went back to visit the Shinigami in the final battle. I'd like to tell you that the weakness never escaped them, but there they were in each other's arms with tears soaking into hair and shirt alike. But we'll forget that part, shall we? A boy and his demon and something ugly resembling love. We'll forget that for now. Though the contract has ended, the story hasn't. No, indeed.

Sebastian looked at Ciel and kissed him once more.

"It's not over yet."

Ciel smiled slightly. "No", he murmured.

"Not yet."

 


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

"Check mate."

The carriage was rolling over the hill when the words fell from his mouth. Sebastian closed his eyes and brought the carriage to the side of the road. For a moment he pretended not to hear until Ciel said it again, louder.

"Check mate, Ciel?" He had to stop himself from saying 'Young Master'. Ah. There was no time for sentiment.

 _Kindness is cruelty_.

"I've refused you nothing, not even myself. But it's time now. Hurt me."

By this point, the carriage doors had been flung open, and Sebastian flicked his tail coat over the seat to look Ciel in the eye.

Ciel cocked his head. "Everything you did will be for nothing. The contract is void if you don't do what I offered you in the first place.

Sebastian chuckled softly. "Ah, Ciel, you offered me you, and I think I took that long ago."

Ciel turned away. "What are you saying?"

"Well, I think I've found the perfect crime." Sebastian leaned into him, placing his hands on either side of the boy's legs. He dragged the tips of his fingers over the milky white of Ciel's thighs, watched as the child gave his head back so Sebastian could kiss his neck. And the dark crow smiled as Ciel let out a groan, unclipping the garters with nimble fingers.

He broke away to look at the boy, and lent in for a small kiss. "This."

And though the two would never admit it, as they made love, they both thought, 'This is the closest I'll ever come to being in love', for it was the truth.

Sebastian thinks, too, as he re-buttons the child shirt, cupping his tired face, that his adoration for the child might as well be something of a repent for everyone he had murdered.  _They were innocent Old Religioners,_  he thinks to himself,  _like Ciel. They all made the mistake of wishing for a better world._

It was a world Sebastian and Ciel knew could not exist. How could it exist?  _It must exist_ , Sebastian thought, finally, seeing the blood of many dripping from his fingers.  _There must be._

* * *

"Oh, God, oh Will", she was screaming again, writhing in pain, throwing up blood. The hall echoed with her cries. Will T Spears stood by unmoving. "It's failing, isn't it? Isn't it?"

Will cautiously drew back the covers to find the rotting flesh beneath and drew away instantly. The Master began to cry.

"It's over, it's over", the weeping echoed, endlessly. "The experiment has failed."

The Master clawed at the air until Will took her hand. "You were a Queen."

She nodded, crying silently, now.  _Finally._

"You were a Queen, Victoria. You were a Queen, and I'll never forget that." He drew the knife along her neck until the girl began to choke on her own blood. The sound of her wheezing was too much to bear.

"Don't worry, my Queen. I'll bring Sebastian." The queen nodded as she closed her eyes a final time, the blood running down her body.

"I'll bring Sebastian", he said again, turning in the hall. Soon, it was flocked with Shinigami. "I was always on your side, anyway."

The others in the hall began to murmur. "Silence".

"On her side, Spears?" Knives were drawn.

"Don't think for a second I want the New World to rule. We must bring back the Old." He turned, and the others nodded. "But we still need Sebastian for it. He's been brought up in this New World system, but he understands now the need for the Old." He smiled at them all. "He cannot escape his fate."

And as the others cheered, Grell slipped out of the room, and began to run. He ran across the field and no one bothered to stop him for no one noticed his absence. A breath of fresh air, the Shingiami thought, and a world of our own.

And Will T. Spears smiled.

* * *

The carriage had stopped at the side of the road, near a cave. He'd carried the small child into the abandoned hollow and started a fire, watching his beauty sleep. Caressing the side of his face, he leant in and kissed the boy on his lips. Carefully, he slipped the eye patch off and kissed him again until his eye fluttered open and he pushed away, covering the place where his eye patch usually sat.

"Wh-what are you", he began.

"Why do you do that? Why are you so nervous for me to see you completely naked?"

Ciel turned away, sighing. "Because…because you mean…I mean -"

The boy was silenced with a kiss on the mouth. "The time for sentiment is never."

"Stay with me", Ciel said. "Just…stay with me? Promise me that?"

Sebastian chuckled out a, "Yes, my Lord", but that made little Ciel angry.

"The contract is over. Don't forget that."

"Then what are you asking?"

"You know what."

Sebastian leaned in to kiss him again. "I'll stay with you as long as I can please you."

"Forever it is, then."

Sebastian shook his head. "You'll tire of me quickly. I serve little purpose to you, now." The vision of that shining child flickered across his eyes and Sebastian drew a shaky breath. "You deserve so much more than a demon."

"What I deserve is of no consequence, anymore. I've lost everything. My parents, my status, my childhood, my life." He turned abruptly to stare Sebastian down. "I will not lose you."

Sebastian smiled softly and turned his face back to the fire. Crossing his fingers behind his back as he leant in for a kiss, Sebastian whispered, "I promise."

But when can you ever trust a demon? And besides, sentiment was a weakness, kindness was a cruelty, and Sebastian hated to admit he would die for the child in an instant, he would love him for all eternity. We can't have that, now, can we?

Sebastian could not help what he was becoming. What he could do, however, was hate it desperately.

He looked into Ciel's eye, gleaming by the fire light, and though try as he might, the smile spread across his lips.

 _There must be_.

 


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End

Chapter 30

The End

_Sleeping_

_Oh, I've been sleeping in my brother's bed_

_He smells of heaven and I'm thinking_

_Oh, I'm thinking_

_It's the closest I'll ever get_

* * *

Sebastian is dreaming, and in his dream is fighting for his life. The claws lash out, and those awful hands are curling around him, snatching and pulling, and Sebastian lets out a long, cavernous howl. The hands are skeletons; they are Joker and Beast and Wendy. With cold tugs the reach him.

They take Ciel.

Ciel's eye-patch peels away and shows him there, Ciel, vulnerable and pink and wanting. He does not struggle.

"You don't deserve this", Sebastian mutters.

"What I deserve is of no consequence anymore."

"You never deserved me, child." He says it sad and quiet.

And Ciel's light laugh flutters up, soft and unreal. "The time for sentiment is never."

When he wakes, Ciel is on him, staring down in oversized shirt with tired eyes. The thing slips off his shoulders, and there he is, Ciel with one sock, with bruises down his neck and weary thighs.

"A dream?" He sings, and Sebastian nods once, curtly.

The man brings his hands to trace the marks on the child's neck, and Ciel scoffs, murmuring, "I did ask for you to hurt me, after all", and smiles at the look on the dark crow's face.

 _The closest to love, to heaven_.

What had the child done to him, he considered.  _Humans cannot reject temptation_ , he had once thought, w _hen they are plunged into the depths of despair, likened to hell, they will hold onto anything that may help them escape_. Looking to Ciel now, he smiles, smiles at the both of them who clung so desperately to one another they have changed so completely.

But do not forget, dear reader, Sebastian's hatred for his new found self. A structural weakness, love was, and he did not care to fall on behalf on the child. Though he would, a voice whispered outside the cave,  _you know you would._

Grell finds them early that morning, and peers in to watch Sebastian kiss Ciel softly on the lips. His own recoil makes them turn, and there are knives at his throat before he murmurs but a word.

But Grell is unlike his usual self, and Sebastian wearily drops the knives from his neck to watch Grell shrug as he brings himself to meet his eyes.

"Sebby", he began, shaking his head, "The Queen, the Master…ah, she's dead."

Ciel's eyes lit up with a silent smile, for the poor child became a child once more, and allowed wishful thoughts to flutter around in his head. He watched Sebastian as he turned slightly to him, and the two of them considered silently what it would be like to live with each other.

"But William… he comes for you." Sebastian's head snapped back around. "He wants you to be the head of the return to the Old World."

"The Old Religion?" Ciel asked. "You're bringing back the Old Ways?"

Grell shrugged, "Boy, Will has planned this for a time."

"And the Shinigami fall to him the moment his asks", suggested Sebastian, and Grell gave a curt nod as he took the child's hands.

"We cannot run from them, Ciel." The boy nodded, and turned his head, letting a shaky sigh leave his lungs.

"But we cannot fight them, either."

Sebastian brought those few knives to meet the child's eyes, and chuckled, "But we might try."

Ciel shook his head, and shoved Sebastian away. "And what, when they come for you?"

Grell look wearily between the pair and offered, "But I don't understand… the child, you were of the Old World, were you not?"

Ciel glared at the redhead, and scoffed once more. "So we return to the Old Ways? My parents dreamed of a better world, but they considered the Old World this new perfection. No." Ciel shook his head, "No, we need something new."

Grell considered the boy, considered him from his youth to his passion, and part of him thought the child might make that dream a reality.

And Sebastian watched Grell, and made a similar deduction, and knew with himself as the forerunner the Old World would return, and nothing good would come of it. Ah, ah, a part of him understood, and Ciel shrank back as the prospect crossed his mind.

"I will not lead such a world- ", he began. The thought was poison; it was a gangrenous limb on the body; Ciel sought to cut such thoughts from his head. He had removed himself entirely from any position of power, or leadership – his pride had been devoured, numerous times in squalor. And then he had made the mistake of letting himself be devoured by a demon, a man whose eyes were studying his face in careful consideration. He despised sentiment. It was eating him whole.

"You cannot force me, Sebastian."

"No force, Ciel", the man chuckled, leaning forward, "Although, you should know by now, I'm rather capable at persuasion".

Ciel felt his face light up with the fire he harboured in his heart, and he turned away. "If, and only if, I were to rule this world, I would do so in the name of my parents." He looked to his lover quickly, murmuring, "My name, the name I abandoned. Phantomhive."

Sebastian swallowed. This was a different Ciel, the Ciel of old; this child was sweet and sour, a little bitter, yet full of vision and capabilities that could bring an age of prosperity to a dying world. And Sebastian had no vision but for Ciel. He was not sure if this realisation would be a hindrance to his lover, but he forced the thought to the back of his mind to watch the boy before him and bathe in his beauty.

"You and me, killer", Sebastian murmured, remembering the kiss they shared over Baron's body, "we're the revolution".

The words fell from his mouth and landed with a thud; a sound that echoed throughout the cave as bullets hurtled through the air. They were sharp, slicing. They threatened death as they whistled. Sebastian pushed Ciel to the floor, the Shinigami crouched to their side.

"They found us", Grell yelled over the noise.

"If they're using revolvers, I say there are thirty", Sebastian yelled back.

"We can't take them", Ciel screamed, "I will not let Will get to you, we must leave!"

But Grell and Sebastian shared their disagreement with a single gaze, and Sebastian let out a shuddering sigh. The bullets stopped and an eery silence filled the air.

"We can't, Ciel."

Incredulous, the boy looked at him, yet saw the certainty in his eyes and slackened in his grip.

"It cannot end like this. You will not stand for them, how do they expect you to rule?"

Grell sighed. "Your killer has a certain weakness I'm sure will persuade him to be obedient."

Ciel swallowed, glaring at the man before him. "You should not have formed sentiment. We both agreed it is a weakness."

"Perhaps", Sebastian said, "But it's also a strength." They looked at each other quietly, until Sebastian continued, "When used correctly, of course."

They sat up cautiously, Ciel begging Sebastian to drop his cryptic messages as forcibly as a child could muster.

"The sentiment I bear for you is a strength when we take into consideration the greater good. And the greater good needs a ruler to lead them into a new age." Sebastian moved the hair from Ciel's face to kiss his forehead lightly. "I can abandon my own desires if it means you live, Ciel. And you will live. I promise you that."

In that moment, Grell understood, and closed his eyes. Sebastian stood from the child quickly, and when Ciel went to rise after him, Grell held him down, allowing Sebastian to leave the bullet-ridden cave and step out in the frosted morning surrounding by a force of Shinigami.

William led them and offered Sebastian a smile out of courtesy.

"Dear Sebastian, I'm sure you've heard already about the unfortunate death of our Highness, Victoria, the Master."

Sebastian said nothing, offering a curt nod and an eyeful of disdain for the man before him.

"Her dying wish was for you to rule this order. Of course, you are in your rights to reject such a kind offer. Only - ", William walked slowly to Sebastian, "Understand there will be awful consequences for one you hold dearly."

"Shinigami", Sebastian said, loud enough for the force to hear. "You wish to be led by a murderous villain such as myself? From birth I have been projected on by the evil your organisation has sought to defeat. And now, you have corrupted yourself, and followed blindly a man consumed by ignorance and fear."

Sebastian was met by silence, and a snicker from Will, yet he continued, "Why not, instead, champion a child? A child of the Old Religion and the New order, born from love and reborn in blood, and one so accustomed to the dangers of both? This is a ruler who can give you something beyond a religion or an order."

He felt their breaths hitch, waiting in expectation for the glory he was to share with them. "Governance. Guidance. A clean slate, wouldn't", he chuckled, "wouldn't we all want a clean slate? Especially", he walked slowly to Will and picked his chin up with the forefinger, "when there is so much blood on our hands?"

"Enough", William said, batting his hand away. "We are not a company of fools."

"Certainly", Sebastian laughed, "certainly not."

The fear cooked him, boiling in his blood and eating his heart. It called for the kiss of his lover, of the child's hand in his own, and he stole a quick glance at the cave behind him where Ciel sat wide-eyed and fearful under the hand of the Shinigami.

 _Oh, God_. Sebastian thought.  _Oh, Satan. This is love._

"No", Will said. "Enough of your talk of Ciel. We will have you. Shinigami!"

The force raised their guns to the killer, and slowly to the cave, and back, unsure and uncertain their weapons blazed. Sebastian was swift to his jacket and held the silver knife in his palm. In that instant, he felt Ciel's realisation and heard the bellowing, "No!" screech out from the cave behind him.

"This order is dead", Sebastian said, "And you will never have me."

Ciel ran out from the cave to his lover, the tears clouding his vision and the pain in his heart threatening to consume him whole. And Sebastian dragged the knife down his wrists.

Was there ever a chance for a happy ending?

Ciel ran to his side as he fell, falling as quickly as the Shinigami's weapons, as quickly as William's stomach and Ciel's happiness and  _oh, God, why?_

Before Sebastian was his opened veins and blood; it was a grotesque portrait of lust and wanting, and Sebastian hated himself for falling so quickly from divinity – assassination meant he had taken his pleasures when they came. Yet Ciel was ever present in his thoughts and dreams; all his life from the moment he turned from Baron's indoctrination, the Old and New gods had played Ciel like a card; he was the ace, trumping Sebastian's senses until his losses triumphed over wins and brought the word love tumbling from the heavens to tie the two together. He wanted him. The gods had played a cruel joke – Sebastian was not to love Ciel at all, only guide him to rule, and he would tear their heaven from the sky even as he was crawling up through hell to get to it.

Sebastian felt himself grow weary as his life was leaving him. This life was a tragedy, dragged on by the whims of human affection.

"What have you done?"

There came the voice of a child, for that's all Ciel was – a charming, broken child; and he was so lovely a thing that he seemed so fragile in that instant, brimming with lost innocence and some mutated thing resembling love. This was a creature of alabaster skin and ebony hair; he kept jewelled eyes and a heart that was so marred by endless cruelty it was nearly unrecognisable. But not for Sebastian. Sebastian knew Ciel's shakes to mean panic, and he reached a bleeding hand to the child, who struck him across the face.

Sebastian thought he might swear. The demon would have laughed if it had happened, but the child was Ciel after all and the strike had been enough to dispel his anger. It was grief, now, that filled him.

"What have you…. What have you done…" He went to bended knee and took Sebastian's pale wrists in his hands.

The child leaned over and kissed Sebastian lightly; it was a haunting whisper of what might have been.

"We could have run, we could have", Ciel starts – it is a child's careless thought, and Sebastian shakes his head.

"And done what?"

"Sebastian, this is an order-"

Sebastian's laugh cuts out as he struggles for breath. "I believe we are beyond orders, Young Master. Ciel."

For a moment they held to each other with a dizzying vertigo of uncertainty and despair. For a time, they existed inside each other's arms alone, but such an eternity could not last forever. Ciel turned to his old lover and kissed him; Sebastian's frail hand gently touched Ciel's cheek. The man embraced his small lover, kissing his supple lips that desired heaven – he kissed them with remnants of hell. And then there was no breath left at all and Sebastian pulled away, smiling slightly.

"Sweet", he says, "Sour, a little bitter… that is the type of person I would have loved to harm. It would have been far more intriguing if it had happened that way. Sweet", he kissed Ciel's eyes, "Sour", he said, touching Ciel's eye-patch, "and a little bitter", he murmured while cupping the child's face.

"That is the type of person I fell in love with".

Sebastian Michealis said no more; his last image was the sight of his Ciel, his last breath drawn for the scent of his hair, the colour of his skin a porcelain white yet pink with his fluster. There – he had found it. Before him was the most exquisite of all things, something this dear, murderous man had sought all his life. It had been an evasive shadow, running from him to lead him on forever until it was in his sight. This was a magnificent beauty that whispered of heaven and safety; Sebastian was happy. He was so, incredibly happy.

Then, there was nothing – only darkness.

The child was shuddering with tears, he was ravenous with his anger, and bitter with his love, and he cradled his lover as Sebastian had for him. Ciel had tasted love once more and it had dragged itself from him and in a fit of despair he lent back his head and screamed; it was a sound that woke memories in the mind so long lost there was no name for them. And the Shinigami flaked away from William who held no power – this boy had vision, certainly, but he held murder in his veins and a murderer in his heart. Ciel wanted so much to slit William's throat, he threatened to loose despair fully like a pack of hungry wolves. Yet the boy stopped and said:

"Shinigami, this is an order", and the resounding echo of, "Yes, my Lord", made his heart seize up so violently he ordered them all away, dragging William to the pits of hell as they left.

Cruelty in its purest form was his lover lying dead.

"Coward", Ciel said, bleeding tears over his lover whom he held so fiercely to his chest.

He might had said, "I love you", for no soul would hear; but such weakness he would not allow until he was dying, as Sebastian had been. No, indeed. Death was the only immortality the two of them would share.

Shaking, he kissed Sebastian once more and drawing away smiled sadly at that lost heaven.

"You were supposed to never leave my side."

And that, dear reader, is the only reason Sebastian Michealis might ever be called a demon.

This is the ending I leave with you.

* * *

A/N:

And it is done.

Finally done.

Thank you to everyone for sticking with me, I'm so sorry... I hope it was worth it.

The purest form of love was that sacrifice, and Ciel will come to understand Sebastian's reasoning, but for now let's leave him to his despair.

He's just lost his heaven, after all.


End file.
